Glass Castle
by xbreathlessx
Summary: For the sake of peace, two countries arrange a marriage. Of course, nothing is as easy as it seems. PotO, AU and of course E/C, but no Raoul bashing. Rating may or may not change.
1. Negotiations

**Synopsis**: When two neighboring countries clash, their rulers decide that a union between their prince and princess is the salve that will heal the wounds. Unfortunately, they fail to consider the two betrothed's own ideas and beliefs. What will the two nations do when they find that the promised are just as fiery as the dispute that threatened their homelands to begin with?

**Disclaimer**: This is my first story, so bear with me! I got my idea from movies like 'Marie Antoniette' and 'Ever After' you know, the basic arranged marriage, save your country, sort of thing, but of course, with the characters of 'Phantom.'

Which brings me to my next note--I own none of this stuff. I credit all the brilliant minds behind the original stories, and I thank them for their brilliance, I would never try to take what they worked so hard to create.

Another note before I start the story, both these countries will be fictional. I thought about using real countries, but in the end I decided against it. My love is in writing, not fact-finding, and I know that if I use a real country, such as France or England, I would be contradicting real facts. So, I will be mainly talking about a country based very much off the landscape of Scottland called 'Nothvale.'

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Negotiations

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Nicolette sat with perfect posture in the magnificent mahogany desk, surrounded by her advisors and close friends, yet her deep blue eyes were not focused on them, nor did they glance down at the various documents and parchments littered across the desk's gleaming surface. Her eyes were instead intently watching as the clouds darkened and the ominous rumble of far-off thunder sounded. Although the thunder was steadily growing louder, it was not loud enough to block out the sound of a pressing voice in Nicolette's ear.

"Your Highness, I implore that you divert your attention to the matters at hand..."

"Hmm? Oh, yes, yes. What are our options, Bayard?"

"Ah, hm," Bayard took a moment to clear his throat and straighten his cuff-links before continuing. "They are, limited, Your Majesty. As of right now, there doesn't seem to be much we can do," Bayard again cleared his throat and nervously tapped a regal-looking document sitting on the desk, "They have a request though, and it appears to be our only feasible option..."

Nicolette lifted her withered hands and placed the glasses that hung around her neck on a delicate golden chain. After she had comfortably adjusted them on her wrinkled face she picked up the document and started reading. The room was silent as the spectators watched the facial expression of their queen slowly fade to indignation as her eyes slide down the parchment.

"Why, Bayard! This is...why I can't even speak!" The old queen raised her hands, searching for the words to express her disgust at the contents of the letter, "Ridiculious! They cannot be serious about this, no?"

Bayard slowly walked over to the grand window Nicolette had been gazing out of earlier and watched as the first few rain droplets thudded against the immaculate glass, carefully considering his words before turning to face his queen again. "This can be a blessing, if we chose to make it one, Your Highness..."

"Oh please, inform me as to how _this_ is a **blessing**!?" Nicolette tossed the document across the desk so the curious others in the room could read it, or so that those who could actually read could and the others could look over shoulders and pretend that the swoops and curves of the fine ink meant a thing to their eyes.

"Highness, think about it. This is the answer we were looking for! A bloodless solution, and a nearly unbreakable treaty between our two nations! The only other option we really have is to side with Hestengurd, and you know as well as I that a war would be declared as soon as you finished signing your seal. You also know our troops are nearly double of what Nothvale has, but their training! I have never seen warriors so, fierce and merciless. A war would be bloody and long, and our victory is not certain."

Nicolette slowly removed the glasses from her eyes and started to worry her thin lips between her false teeth. Everything Bayard had said was true! Yet, did they honestly think she could comply to this request? Did they not know what they were truly asking for?

"Alright Bayard, you are sure there is no other option. Then, I suppose there is nothing left for me to do. Call her in..."

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Ok, I know this isn't much right now, but I just want to seem if there is any interest before I go much further. I have the next couple of chapters ready to go, I'm just not sure about this story yet. Reviews are more than welcome! Thanks!


	2. Royal Obligations

Royal Obligations

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Eyes that matched the intensity of Nicolette's also stared out of a window to look at the angry storm clouds, but they did not gaze out of a sparkling palace window. Instead, they gazed from the dusty window in the barn loft, but the vivid blue eyes were not the only eyes looking out of the window.

"I cannot believe it rained! It's been so gorgeous all week, and it decides to rain on the day we want to go riding?"

"Oh, well this isn't so bad. In fact, I may end up enjoying this more than riding anyway..." A male voice responded as a muscled arm snaked its way around the tiny waist of the rain-soaked brunette, turning her from the window to his own wet face.

A giggle erupted from the wet beauty as she kissed the man who held her. "Are you trying to seduce me, Raoul?"

"Oh, if I thought I had a chance at success I might consider it, Princess." The young lovers laughed at their banter and kissed again, oblivious to anything other than each other. They were a picture of innocent love, their simple joy of being together radiating off their faces. Any other obligations they had were forgotten as they lounged together in the loft.

---

Nicolette continued to sit at her grand desk, waiting for Bayard to return. She chatted with her friends and council members, but her agitation at waiting was slowly becoming evident. Bayard finally came back into the study, his nervous face looking more frazzled than ever.

"Highness, forgive me--"

Nicolette raised her age-gnarled hand to stop Bayard from continuing. "Don't bother saying it, I'm old, but I'm not stupid. Summon the guards, this nonsense has to end."

Bayard nodded his head and rushed back out of the room to do his queen's bidding. Nicolette, who had closed her eyes in frustration and fatigue, did not notice the pretty blonde girl silently slip out of the room as well.

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The pair in the barn failed to hear the sound of the heavy wooden door as it slowly creaked open over the noise of the rain and their quite murmurings, they did hear when a female voice called out though and they both fell silent.

"Christine! Christine!" The blonde who had slipped out of the study yelled out, looking around the barn, her hands pushing the rain-soaked blonde hair out of her face. When she received no reply she shook the ladder leading to the loft, "Oh, come on! I know you're up there! Don't make me climb up there in a soaking dress. The queen sent the guard out, you two better part ways before you get caught!"

Christine quickly untangled her arms from Raoul's and bolted up, her pretty face flustered. She waited until she heard the other girl leave the barn before she spoke, her voice a hurried whisper. "We have to go! Oh, if her guards caught me here, with you, again!" Christine was trying to brush the hay off of her still-wet dress and collect her thoughts, unaware of the amused look on Raoul's handsome young face.

"Princess, calm down. And _we _do not have to go. I'm the stable boy, I should be in the barn. _You _should get back to the castle." Raoul languidly stretched out his body and watched as Christine whirled around, her cheeks turning red with her hurry.

The obvious amusement at the potentially bad situation sparked Christine's temper and added to the red on her cheeks. "This isn't funny! Don't you know what could happen? Don't you care?"

Raoul sat up and pulled the upset girl back into his chest and placed a kiss on the top of her wet curls. "Darling, of course I care. We aren't going to get caught, at least not today. Just tell your mother you were off enjoying the grounds, you got caught in the rain. Mention nothing about the stables." His emerald green eyes closed as he felt Christine's arms tighten around him. "No one knows you were supposed to be with me other than Meg, and we both know she won't say a word, she never has."

"I hate that we have to do this." Christine whispered into Raoul's work-hardened chest.

"I do too, now hurry up and get back to your mother..."

---

Meg had changed her soiled dress and waited in the grand bedroom that was Christine's. As soon as the frantic princess rushed into the room she got to work removing her friend's wet clothing and helped her change into a new silken dress.

"My hair! There's hay all in it!" Christine wailed and tried to claw it out of her tousled curls.

"Christine, come sit. I'll fix it. Just breathe, your mother has no idea you were with him. The only way she is going to know is if you go into that room and give yourself away." Meg spoke calmly, like a mother trying to soothe an infant. "Oh and a letter came for you, it didn't look like Raoul's handwriting though."

Christine lowered herself down into her chair and allowed Meg to comb through the tangled mess of curls on her head. "I always forget you can't read, you should let me teach you one day. I taught Raoul in just a month."

Meg laughed and shook her head. "Christine, I have no need for that skill. I was never a fan of the stories out of books like you, and no one ever really writes to me anyway. What would I need to read for?"

---

"Honestly! She is a sixteen year-old girl! How hard can it be to find her?" Nicolette ranted to the remaining guests in the study. It had been nearly an hour and still no one had brought her daughter to her.

"Mother? You were looking for me?" Christine breezed through the doorway, two guards following on her heels.

Nicolette stared at the girl before her in slight amazement. She couldn't recall how many suitors had come for her, some before she had even celebrated her thirteenth birthday. Not that Nicolette could blame them for wanting her, she was a vision of beauty. Nicolette had been considered beautiful too, with her thick, straight, ink black hair and her intense blue eyes and delicate features, and she had aged gracefully into a beautiful old woman, but her Christine's beauty outstretched hers by far. She had inherited her father's curls, but they were thick and long like her mother's hair had been, and she had nearly identical eyes to that of the queen's. Her features were her own though, everything on her face seemed like an artisan had lovingly crafted them for her, from her high cheekbones to her plump, rose-red lips. Nicolette had always let her daughter have a say in her suitors, and every one of them had been rejected. For a long time, Nicolette had no idea why Christine would turn down so many hopeful men so fast, for a marriage was never demanded, but instead just mentioned as a hopeful possibility. That was, until Nicolette had seen her beautiful daughter carousing with the stable boy.

"You were with him, weren't you?" It wasn't really a question, and Christine didn't offer a reply. Nicolette pursed her lips and waved a dismal to the people who still remained in the room. "How many times have I told you to forget that little fancy?"

"It's not a fancy!" Christine quipped back before she had the sense to stop herself.

"Oh, Christine! You are the Princess of Flerin, act like it! You cannot be seen gallivanting across the royal grounds with a _stable boy_!" Nicolette shouted back.

"You know he is a good man! But that means nothing because he wasn't born to inherit, because he lives an honest life that he works for!" Christine argued back, balling her little fists in frustration.

"This does not matter! I summoned you, not because you were doubtlessly playing your silly game with that boy, but because it's time for you to do something for your country and your people."

Christine fell silent from shock and stared at her mother in confusion, she had never just dropped an argument like that before. The princess shared more than just her eyes with her mother, they both were as hard-headed as a mull and insisted on the last word. "What are you talking about?"

Nicolette readied herself for the storm that was about to shake the castle all the way to its royal foundation. "Nothvale has offered us a treaty, but there were conditions." Nicolette nodded her head towards the document Bayard had shown her earlier, the one that would hopefully save her people from a long and hard war, but at what expense?

Christine eyed her mother carefully as she moved over to the desk and picked up the parchment, but before she could lift it from the desk to read it she felt her mother's cool hand rest on hers, "Christine, they left me no other choice. I had to think of our country."

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Wow you guys, thanks so much for the positive reviews!! I'm glad you like it so far, please keep me informed on what you're thinking. I'll take any ideas and all that stuff into consideration, after all, this is still a work in progress )


	3. A Clever Trick

A Clever Trick

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The sound of steel crashing against steel echoed like thunder in the dimly lit cavern. Two shirtless men faced each other, their masculine forms seeming to glitter from the beads of sweat that raced down their bodies, but neither seemed in the least bit fatigued. They charged at one another, each grunting from the force of their swings and their opponent's impact, but neither gave an inch. They continued to reign down blows with expertise, this was a true duel of masters, until their limbs screamed in protest and their lungs burned, but neither of the men would surrender. Finally, a great gust of wind blew in through the mouth of the cave and extinguished the torches along the walls, forcing the sweat-soaked and panting men to drop their swords to their sides and helplessly wander towards the entrance.

They walked out into the hazy twilight of the evening together, each wiping the sweat from their brows, thankful for the cool wind that blew across them.

"This wind means there must be a storm heading in from the south." The older of the two commented as he breathed in the cool air in deep gulps before turning to face the other, "Truly you are a master. Are you sure I cannot convince you to come back to the ranks?" He watched as his companion stopped and headed towards the shoreline of the beach they walked along.

"I'm afraid I cannot, Vincent." The other responded as he turned his golden eyes towards the torpid waters of the ocean, sucking in the sea air. He was unaware that Vincent had walked up beside him until he felt him gently pat him on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, sometimes I forget. You two were the best damn soldiers I ever had the privilege to command." Vincent's voice was low and sympathetic, but still the other man stiffened to his touch and pulled away.

"I could have done more, I'm sure."

Vincent watched as the younger man stalked back down the beach, back down towards the castle nestled securely in the rocky terrain. Vincent ran a hand through his silver-streaked hair as he thought about the tragedy that was his Prince's life.

---

"You needed something?" The man who dueled with Vincent earlier was now fully-clothed in an all black outfit. Although the color was mundane, the details on it were not. It was obviously expertly tailored and made for no body other than the one it rested on now, and the silver stitching made delicate patterns dance across the vest and around the buttons. The suit made his wearer look quite intimidating, which was not all too far off from what the wearer wanted in the first place.

"Yes. Sit." The command was spat out by a decrepit looking woman, the jewels on her fingers and in her thin white hair appearing as gaudy and fake as the smile she tried to plaster on to her stained lips. "I have good news for you."

"Someone slipped poison into your wine this evening?" The man leaned easily against the door frame, ignoring the woman's command and he watched with cool indifference as the red rose in her pale cheeks. He couldn't help but feel some sort of satisfaction knowing he had angered her. "What is it, mother?"

"Ah, how often you make me wish it. But no, I have done something in your benefit. You should be kissing my feet right now!" She watched as her son continued to feign his disinterest. She knew he had to be at least curious as to what it was he should be so thankful for. "Well, would you like to know what your mother has done for you?"

"Not particularly." He pushed his body off the door frame and turned to leave when he heard her raspy voice call out.

"Why, darling, I found you a bride!" The remark was thrown at him like some kind of joke. And just like a joke, the old woman fell into a fit of laughter, so loud that even the slamming of the heavy oaken door was not enough to drown it out from the enraged man's ears as he hurried back down the stairs of the majesty hallway.

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Alright guys, I downloaded OpenOffice and wrote this chapter on there, since I know longer have Word and I had just been using WordPad. If the formatting is off a little or it's doing crazy thing, just bear with me as I get the hang of the new system. Hope you like this chapter!


	4. As the Storm Crashes

As The Storm Crashes

The thunder clouds had finally settled in over the stone castle and they threw down their lightening bolts mercilessly, but all things considered, Nicolette doubted the storm outside could even begin to hold a candle to her only daughter's fury.

She had known that Christine was not going to be pleased with that she had done. Did she think that it did not break her heart as well? "Oh, Bayard, are you sure that this was for the best?" Nicolette moaned as she massaged her aching temples, trying to ignore the banging and screaming coming from Christine's room down the corridor.

"Your Highness, Nothvale knew we had no other options. I just cannot imagine as to why that their only demand be the Princess..." Bayard mused as he paced the queen's private chambers.

The Queen also mused over this, although she did not voice her thoughts aloud. Instead she simply bade Bayard to leave her to her private thoughts for the night, and instructed him to inform Cook that she would not be down for dinner that evening. Bayard bowed deeply and left the room, off to do the bidding of his queen.

When Meg entered the room that was the royal sleeping chambers of Flerin's Princess Christine, she was amazed at what she saw. The delicate decorations where broken to pieces on the floor, the beautiful curtains and blankets and pillows were strewn about and even shredded, and the priceless gowns were flung about like dirty rags. But the destruction of the room was nothing compared to what the actual girl herself looked like.

She was a pathetic, sobbing heap in the center of the floor. Meg carefully tip-toed over to her friend and sat next to her, allowing her to pick up her tear-stained head and place it on her shoulder, "Shh, shh, tell me what's going on." Meg was only a few months older than Christine, she had just turned eighteen, but she had always been the more motherly and down to earth of the pair, and this was not the first time she had come to comfort Christine, albeit this was definitely the worst she had ever seen her dear friend.

Christine tried to tell Meg what had happened, the betrayal and the role her mother had played in it, but her throat was raw from the screaming and crying. After a moment, she gulped in some air she managed to squawk out what happened, "I'm to marry the Prince of Nothvale. In a week."

This was all the princess could managed to get out, because she was soon overcome with sobs once again and collapsed into a stunned Meg's embrace.

The Prince burst out of the castle, pushing open the heavy wooden doors like they were gossamer curtains. His golden eyes were narrowed down to slits as he continued on his way. They resembled very much of a cobra's eyes before it lashed out with its' deadly strike. His anger was nearly tangible, and his chest rose and fell heavily with the exertion of his flight and from the rage he barely kept contained. Several servants had peaked their heads out of doors and stopped in their work to examine the man as he passed, but they soon quickly turned back to what they were doing. They had all at least heard rumors of their prince's foul moods, and none of them wanted to be an outlet for such a vicious humor as he was now in.

He would make her pay for what she had done. _Isn't she making you pay? Don't you deserve her tortuous games?_ His mind sneered at him. But he had reached his destination at this point, the royal stables. The warm smell of horseflesh and leather calmed him slightly, and an agitated grunt of his steed made him remember that although his mother may deserve his rage, his animal did not. He gulped in air as if to extinguish the fires that burned in his veins and once he felt as calm as he possibly could, he readied his mount.

The weather wreaked its havoc through out the night, and Nicolette couldn't ignore its raging anymore than she could ignore the stabbing pain she felt in her chest. Despite the heavy blankets covering her aging form, she felt like she had just been dipped in ice water. Christine had locked herself in her room immediately upon learning of her new fate. For a while Nicolette had listened to her sobs and rantings, she heard every crash and scream, but she could not be angry for her daughter's reaction. In fact, she would have been worried had Christine not reacted in such a manner. As storm set in more heavily and the cloud-blocked sun started to descend into the horizon, Christine's crying started to fade, and Nicolette no longer heard the furniture and decorations hitting the floor and walls. Now, in the dead of night she heard nothing coming from Christine's room. She needed to go talk to her daughter. She flung the covers off of her body and slowly got up from her grand bed to go visit her daughter.

The prince rode his stallion hard and fast, but no matter what speed his horse reached, it would not outrun what his mother had done. _People think I am the monster? They know nothing of monsters!_ He fumed. He ran his horse across the royal grounds until the sun started to set before he showed mercy for the poor beast and slowed to a stop near a shallow creek that meandered by. The storm that was no doubt on its way had brought in a cold front and his golden eyes watched as the steam rose up from his horse's body. He had ridden the animal far too hard, and he cursed himself silently. The stallion was not just a random one from the stables, he was his own, picked out as just an awkward looking colt many years ago. _What of your mount's brother? _There was his mind again, refusing to allow him to forget, even for a moment, the horrors that were his past. The black clouds that settled in over his mind had lifted slightly during the ride, he would not idle now and give them reentry, so now with the moon casting a silvery light over the wood he mounted up the stallion again and rode back, slower so he would not kill his mount, towards the castle.

"Christine, I know you're angry with me, but please..." Nicolette coaxed through the door that led to Christine's chambers. She had knocked several times, but her daughter was either too deep in sleep to hear her, or was purposely ignoring her. Knowing that her daughter had never been a light sleeper, she believed that it was more than latter of the two options, so with greatest care she gently pushed open the door.

Servants had since cleaned up the destruction that Christine had caused, and although the room was much more barren than it had ever been, it was orderly and neat again. Nicolette was surprised at the chill in the room, until she saw that a window had been opened and rain was happily entering the room, staining the deep red carpet, making it appear nearly black in the dim light from the moon and the candle held in Nicolette's shaking hand.

"Christine? Christine!" Nicolette called, no longer whispering. She rushed over to the grand bed and threw back the covers, not at all surprised to find that there was nothing beneath them. "Christine!!" Nicolette screeched and the candle fell from her hand as she ran over to the window, ignoring the rain and wind hitting her head on. "Christine!!" Nicolette shouted over and over again, her eyes wildly searching for signs of her daughter in the weather's onslaught. The last thing she felt was the sting of the cold and rain on her cheeks and the feel of hands pulling her away from the window, then everything went black and she fainted into the arms of the guard behind her.

**Author's Note:** I know it has been far too long between this update and the last, but I promise it's not because I simply forget about all of you reading this, or the story itself. It's because this couple of chapters coming up have been the hardest to actually sit down and write. I have so many things that I need to get in here, but I don't always know the best way to do it. Anyway, all I can do is apologize and promise to try harder to get my muse to cooperate with me.


	5. Desperation

Desperation

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Raoul had just pulled off his shirt and climbed into his simple straw bed when he thought he heard a banging on his door. He leaned up slightly in his bed and strained his ears, but he heard nothing except the wind and thunder raging outside. He waited a few more moments before he laid his head back down, but as soon as he did he thought he heard it again. Feeling silly, yet paranoid none the less, he slipped out of his bed and made his way into the only other room in his small cottage. The room was completely draped in darkness, and it only possessed the most basic of essantuties; a table to eat at, and sink to wash in, and a chair and fireplace to relax by. Raoul strained to see anything out of the ordinary, but the room was exactly how he left it. Just as he was turning back around, he heard a faint creak and a slight sliver of light snuck into the room. He quickly hid behind the still open door of his bedroom and watched as a cloaked figure tip-toed into his home. Silently he stalked along the wall, ready to jump the thief from behind when he heard them whisper.

"Raoul?"

Raoul stopped, inches from the assumed perpetrator, "Christine!?"

Christine jumped unaware that he was behind her, "Oh! I was afraid I had woken you, I didn't, did I?"

Raoul let out a humorless laugh, "No, Christine, I thought you were a thief. I nearly just jumped you. What are you doing here?"

Christine flung herself against Raoul's hard chest, nestling her once-again rain soaked head into the crook of his neck and shoulders; "Raoul, I have horrible news…" was all that princess managed before tears racked her tired body.

"Christine? Darling, why are you crying?" Raoul was perplexed. It was nearly midnight, and Christine was in his cottage announced and crying about some bad news. His mind automatically flew to this afternoon in the stables, her mother must have guessed where her daughter had been and threatened to send him away again. This always upset Christine, yet he knew just as well as the queen did that she would never actually do it. "Wait a moment, I'll light a candle and you can explain everything.

---

The man strode up to his mother's chambers and entered without knocking, causing the old woman to look up in surprise, which quickly faded as she saw her son enter.

"Here to thank me for the wonderful present I have given you?" She asked in a mocking tone, her eyes glaring at the man before her.

"When am I to be married?" He asked casually as he took a seat in front of the desk she was sitting at.

"Ah see, I knew you were excited!" The old woman laughed, "Your bride does have a ways to travel, she is coming in from Flerin, so it will probably take a week for her to get here, and then you can be married on the next day." She carefully watched her son as he calculated when his marriage would take place, and a cruel smile worked onto her face as she saw his reaction. "Any objections, my darling son?"

"No mother, your timing is perfect." The man snarled as he stormed out of her chambers for the second time today.

---

Raoul gently lead Christine to his bed, setting the candle carefully on his small nightstand. He knew it was improper, but he sat down next to her and rubbed her back, trying to soothe her. She still hadn't said anything else, but her tears had bated some. Soon, they stopped completely and she simply sat with her wet head in her hands.

"Christine?" Raoul softly called, unsure of what to do.

Christine didn't respond, instead she just snuggled up to Raoul, nearly climbing into his lap, and began trailing kisses along his neck.

"Christine? What are you doing…" Raoul leaned his head away from her spine-tingling kisses, unsure of what the princess was doing.

"Raoul, do you love me?" Christine asked as she moved with him so she could continue placing her heated kisses on his exposed shoulders and neck

Raoul shuddered slightly under his sweetheart's onslaught before he could answer her, "Christine, you know I do…" Raoul was a couple of years older than Christine, and he was not nearly as innocent as her, and he had to fight hard to remain in control of what his body was doing in response to Christine's advances.

"Would you marry me right now if you could?" Christine whispered into his ear before she began gently kissing around it.

"Of course I would…" Raoul's voice was liquid-like, his eyes closing due to the pleasure her touch was causing him. He let his arms wrap around Christine's waist, pulling her closer so she could continue her trail of kisses across him.

"Then make love to me, right now, tonight." Christine murmured into his ear, her voice a tone Raoul had never heard her use before.

Raoul immediately pushed himself away from Christine and stood up, afraid to be on the bed with her. "What!? Christine, what has gotten into you? I thought you were the one who wanted to wait…"

"We don't have time to wait!" Christine cried out in a shrill voice, her eyes shining again.

"What?" Raoul stood there, puzzled. Nothing was making sense with her tonight.

"Raoul, my mother has promised me to another man!" Christine choked out, nearly collapsing on his bed with anguish.

Raoul simply stared. The queen had done what? Suddenly, the pieces starting fitting together. Christine's mother had betrothed her. Obviously, Christine was not thrilled with the idea. And she had come to him to help her. "So by sleeping with me, you hope to erase any possibility for being a suitable wife?" Raoul asked coolly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Christine sat up. "No, Raoul. I love you, I want to marry _you_, not some man I have never met, never laughed with, never held nor kissed. And if I _have_ to marry him, I do not want him to have what should be yours!" Christine knew she sounded nearly hysterical, but she could do nothing to help it. Her world was ending, and in a day's time it was unlikely she would ever see her love again.

Raoul stood staring at the girl before him. She was a princess for God's sake! Yet there she was, declaring her love for him, asking him to make love to her, no, _begging_ him to! Raoul felt his defenses start to weaken.

Christine continued to sit on the bed and watch as Raoul assessed her. She was nervous, and her breathing was near rapid. He was disgusted with her, she knew it. She had thrown herself at him like some cheap whore and now he wanted nothing to do with her. He was probably thankful that some other man would have to deal with her and her wantonness. Just as Christine had decided she should just get up and leave, Raoul took a step towards her. Hope lit up her face as he took another, and then one more, before he reached her and kissed her soundly on the lips. She felt his arms plant themselves firmly on the bed beside her, and then she felt a gentle push from Raoul to get her into a reclining position, and she realized her request was about to be granted.

---

The prince felt as if ice had replaced his blood. His hands were numb, his arms felt like lead and he was unsure how he was able to lift his feet and make his way into his room. Once inside he collapsed on his settee, his breathing hard and irregular. The bitch had one-upped herself. Not only was he marrying, but she made sure he would be celebrating more than one anniversary that day. He reached his icy fingers up to his face and ripped away the white mask that covered the right side of his face and starting to rub his throbbing temples. She had backed him into a corner. He knew he could not deny his future bride, it would cause unneeded conflict between his country and her homeland, and although he was a soldier by nature, he would not cause the bloodshed. With a heavy sigh he made his way across the room to a cabinet and pulled out a crystal bottle of amber liquid. He didn't bother with a glass, instead he made his way back to the settee and put the bottle up to his lips and began to drink.

---

Christine could feel herself shivering beneath Raoul's body. His hands were behind her, trying to remove the many strings and buttons that kept her nightgown in place. She snuck out of her window without bothering to put on anything more than a cloak. Now she wondered if perhaps she should have. No, she wanted this, it was normal for a girl to be nervous on her first time, and that's the only reason she was feeling so ill to her stomach. She had learned all about sex, and what it was going to be like, and she knew it was supposed to hurt when he took her virginity; she was probably going to bleed. But it would be worth it, so that her Raoul could have her most precious gift, and not some spoiled prince who asked for her in exchange for a peace treaty.

Christine's mind immediately went back to the situation at hand when she felt her nightdress loosen around her. He had untied the strings. Christine chanced a frightened look up at Raoul and saw that he did not share the same nervous feeling with her; she saw nothing but pure desire in his green eyes.

"Raoul…wait…" Christine began but her protest was quickly cut off by the door to Raoul's simple cottage being thrown open. Both Raoul and Christine jumped a foot in the air and quickly turned to see who had caught them.

"Christine, it's your mother!" Meg called frantically, seemingly unperturbed by the scene she had just walked in on.


	6. For One's Country

For One's Country

---

"Christine!" Christine's head jerked up at the familiar male voice, and despite everything a small smile slipped onto her uncharacteristically taunt face. She stood up to greet the man as he entered her bedroom.

"Hello, Augustus." Christine replied as her brother gathered her in a hug. "I suppose you heard?"

The man's cheery smile faded away and a more somber expression came onto his handsome face. "I suppose you could say that."

Christine pulled away and moved towards the oversized chair she had been sitting in. "Then I suppose you are very angry with me?" Christine's voice was weak, and she dared not look up into the blue eyes of her brother.

Augustus moved towards the window in Christine's room and silently noted that locks had been installed. This caused a small smile to tickle the sides of his lips just slightly. His sister, the wild one. "Angry? With you? Christine don't be silly, when have I ever been able to be angry with my dear baby sister?" Augustus made his way from the window and sat in the matching chair across from Christine and looked straight into her shame filled eyes. "I am worried about Mother, obviously, but do I blame you for what you did? No. But, should it happen again I cannot promise I would be as forgiving." Augustus settled back into the chair and watched his sister, piety for her flowing through his veins.

"It won't happen again…I didn't mean to, I didn't know…" Christine's throat started to choke up and she stopped herself. She did not want to cry in front of her brother, it made her feel even younger in his eyes.

"I know it won't, dear Christine. But I must still remind you how import you are to our country. You hold the key to _peace_! You are not being traded for more land, or riches, but for lives. Surely you can understand why Mother agreed?"

"I know, I know," Christine sighed, "It's just not _fair_! You got to marry who you wanted! And Father promised me I could marry a husband I had fallen in love with! If he were here…"

"If he were here, a lot of things would be different, but he isn't and that's that." Augustus cut his sister off. "I got lucky; things were peaceful when I was ready to marry. But Christine, did you try to marry for love?"

Christine's eyes flared with indignation. "Of course I did! I-"

"With anyone _other _than the stable boy?" Once again, her brother cut her off.

Christine remained silent. Her brother was, of course, right. She had first met Raoul two years when she was fourteen and he was seventeen and she deemed it love at first sight. Her poor father probably turned over in his grave when he realized his only daughter had fallen so far from her station.

"Now, there is nothing written in stone saying you will hate your husband-to-be. Arranged marriages happen all the time, and happiness can still be achieved. And if you cannot derive happiness from your husband, get it from your subjects. The queen you will be replacing is not a loved one. Her subjects are unhappy, and if you achieve love through them, I assure you that you will feel fulfilled. You are a sweet girl, Christine, you will enjoy helping people." Augustus wisely remarked. Even if his sister did not realize it yet, she had a powerful presence over people, and he knew that she would be a very useful asset to the people of Estergaurd.

Christine merely nodded. Her brother was nearly twice her age, and he always seemed to know exactly what he was talking about. Tired of hearing things she knew to be true she changed the subject. "You have seen Mother?"

"Yes, she is doing much better. Have you gone to visit her?"

"No," Christine shook her head, "Bayard won't let me. I swear he is the most annoying man I have ever known! I don't understand how Mother puts up with him." Christine ranted.

Augustus chuckled. "He simply can't handle a spirit such as yours, dear sister. Now, I do believe I have kept you long enough, you do have a niece and nephew who are dying to see you downstairs in the garden…" On that note, Augustus raised his lean body and made his way out of the room, leaving Christine to her thoughts.

---

The prince was deep in slumber when a deafening knock shattered his ears. He moaned and sat up, his back stiff from sleeping on the settee.

"Yes?" He called, his own voice hurting his head.

Vincent strode into the room, his hair neatly combed back and his uniform immaculate. "Good afternoon, Your Highness. I see you had an enjoyable evening in." Vincent remarked as he eyed the empty bottle of liquor and his prince's obvious hangover.

The prince's golden eyes glared at the captain of the guard, "Is there something I can do for you?"

Vincent smirked and sat down across from the man on another divan. "I just came to check on you; your mother just informed me that I am to send a guard within a week's time to escort your future bride to the castle." Vincent cocked an eyebrow as he watched his old friend.

"She is correct. I'm getting married Vincent!" He replied, completely without mirth.

"Well congratulations Sire, when is the wedding?"

This time it was the prince who cocked a brow, "Oh, didn't she tell you? Let's see, today is Wednesday, meaning if my lovely bride arrives on schedule she should be here by Tuesday, and I will get married next Wednesday." The prince finished with a growl and watched as his friend digested the news.

"Next Wednesday? Are you sure?" Vincent asked, shock written all over his face.

"Oh, absolutely! I would offer you a drink, but my dear friend; I have already drunk it all."

"I can see why…" Vincent murmured, the cruelty of his queen astounding him.

---

"Aunt Christine!" Two child voices rang out in unison as Christine stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine.

"Hello, you little ruffians!" Christine cried fondly as her twin niece and nephew descended upon her skirts.

"Is it true?" The little girl asked as the hug ended.

"Is what true, Julia?" Christine asked.

"That you are getting married and you tried to run away?" The young girl asked as she took her aunt's offered hand and started walking over to a bench.

Christine sighed, "Yes, I am getting married. Whoever told you I tried to run away?" Christine asked as they all sat down.

"Liam did!" Julia replied readily.

"Did not!" Snapped the little boy sitting on Christine's opposite.

"Did too!" Julia retorted.

Christine held up her hands, signaling for the battle to end. "It doesn't matter. But I did try to leave without telling anyone, yes." Christine refused to lie to either of the two children, although she was not happy admitting what she had done. Thank God it had been Meg who had found her in her…compromising…position and not someone like Bayard. To anyone other than the three involved, the story was that she slipped out her window and tried to run through the woods to town, Raoul feigned ignorance that she had even been out of her room that night and Meg covered for her completely.

"Why did you do that?" Liam asked innocently.

"Ah, you probably wouldn't understand, being as you're only six, but one day, when you are as old as me, I'll tell you." Christine replied

"But Aunt Christine, I won't ever be that old. Every time I get older, so do you!" Liam protested with a whine.

"Funny how that works, hm?" Christine replied with a laugh and a wink. Suddenly Christine's cheerful gathering with her niece and nephew was interrupted by a frantic Bayard running across the grounds towards them. Christine groaned and stood up to meet her mother's most trusted advisor, "Yes?"

Bayard wiped a handkerchief across his brow, "She is demanding to see you, although I have no idea why."

Christine nodded and bade farewell to Julia and Liam, promising to spend time with them again before dinner, and made her way into the castle to visit with her mother.

---

"Madame, you called for me?" A lady-in-waiting asked as she stood before her queen.

"Yes, please fetch me my letter writer; I need to send that bitch in Flerin a little note." The queen said as she continued to stare out of her window, looking out over the countryside. The little town beneath her was filled with people running around, dogs chasing children, children chasing chickens. All of it disgusted her. A knock at her door turned her attention away from the window and to the man who just entered.

"Ah, Henry. I need a letter written to Flerin."

"Yes your majesty." The man bowed and took a seat at a desk and set up his letter kit.

---

"Madame, you called for me?" Christine called softly as she entered her mother's bedchamber. Her mother was sitting up in her bed, still in her dressing gown and robe. The curtains were drawn tightly shut, but her mother had candles lit, illuminating the room in a soft glow.

"Yes, please, come and sit with me." Nicolette requested and patted the bed.

Christine quickly bade to do as she was asked and clasped her mother's soft hand in her own and kissed it. "Oh, Mother, I am so sorry…"

"Hush child, I'm not angry with you. You have every right to be angry with me." Nicolette's face was pale, but her eyes were still sparkling blue. "Now, you gave me a scare, but I'm fine. My physicians have been in here all day, and have forbidden me to leave this blasted bed. Apparently Bayard summoned your brother and his family in from the country, have you met with them?"

Christine nodded her head. "Mother, I am so sorry for my actions…" Christine once again tried to apologize but her mother cut her off again.

"Bah, don't apologize. You are young, and you think you are in love, I understand. But I want you to know something about your father and I. When we first met, I couldn't stand him. He was twenty three, and I was fourteen. I thought he was a cad, and he thought I was a silly little girl. In fact, he was already in love with another woman, some lady-in-waiting who worked for his mother."

Christine's eyes widened in shock, "What!? No, you and Father were in love!"

Nicolette nodded, "Yes, we were. But we didn't start out that way. I resented him and wanted to go back to my home country with my mother and sisters. He just wanted to be with his sweetheart, and things remained like that for many years. Slowly, we became friends, and then we realized that had we not been so busy hating each other, we each could have been very happy with the other. It was gradual, but we came to not only like each other, but love one another."

"I never knew…" Christine sighed and shook her head. Her father had absolutely adored her mother, the whole kingdom knew it. When he died five years ago, Christine knew a piece of her mother had died as well.

"Well, there was no real reason to tell you or your brother. Augustus found out, the wily boy he was, but he accepted it. I never could understand why your father was so adamant against choosing suitors for either of you, considering how things had turned out for us, and he used to tell me, 'Nicolette, we are lucky. Our stars aligned in our favor. I don't want to tempt fate twice, not with my children's happiness.' So, when I signed that treaty…"

"I know you did what you had to, for Flerin. I was acting like a spoiled little girl…" Christine interjected.

"No, you were acting exactly as I did when my father told me I was to be shipped away to marry some man I didn't know. And I'm sorry I broke your father's promise to you…" Nicolette stopped to allow the tightness in her throat to clear.

"Maybe I can grow to love him, like a dear friend or brother." Christine offered, sensing that her mother was beginning to get upset with all the talk about her late father.

"Yes, there is nothing saying you can't. And I wish the best for you, my dear Christine. I hate that you will be so far away from me…" Tears started welling in Nicolette's crystal blue eyes and she hastily wiped them away.

"I will write, all the time, and visit on holidays, and any other time I can." Christine replied as she felt her own tears spring into her eyes and she leaned forward to hug her mother.

---

After dinner, Christine said her farewells to her family. Her trunks were already packed and on the carriage. She was leaving at night so that in case anyone heard that the Princess, and her considerable dowry, was leaving the castle, they would already be long gone. Christine tearfully hugged Meg goodbye and slipped her a letter. She didn't need to tell her who it was for, Meg already knew.

"You were like the sister I never have. Promise to visit me someday, please?" Christine asked as she gave Meg another hug.

"Yes, yes, of course. Now go, before I start weeping like a baby." Meg sniffed as she hugged her friend back.

With a backwards glance at the only place she had ever known, Christine got into her carriage, and started her journey.


	7. A Journey of a Thousand Miles

A Journey of a Thousand Miles

---

As her carriage trudged on through the countryside, Christine contemplated her new fate. She was headed towards Nothvale, a country she barely knew anything about. It was much farther north than Flerin, and the people there were rumored to be much more warlike than the people of her country, but that was all she really knew. She had never met anyone from there, nor paid the country a visit. Christine suddenly realized how very alone she would be in her new 'home.'

Christine's carriage traveled without stop until the following night. She had just managed to fall asleep when her stage coach opened her door.

"Princess Christine, we have arrived at the inn we will be staying at tonight. May I help you down?" The stage coach asked as he offered her his hand.

Christine silently stepped down, taking the man's hand. Once her eyes adjusted to the dimness she looked at her surroundings.

It was quite a stumble from what she was accustomed to. The inn itself had been cleared out; her mother didn't want anyone recognizing her or her carriage, and Christine was thankful. The small wooden inn looked like the kind of place criminals and prostitutes would frequent. Without a word, Christine followed one of the four guards that had made the journey with her into the inn, and up to her room. The guard opened the door for her but did not enter.

"I will be just outside your door, Princess. If you need me, please do not hesitate." The man said, and Christine noticed that he didn't seem any more thrilled with the surroundings then she was.

"Thank you…" Christine mumbled and walked inside her small room. Although her back ached from the constant jostling from the carriage, the small bed the room presented didn't look like it would be offering her much more comfort. With a resigned sigh, Christine removed her traveling cloak and starting getting ready for bed.

---

The prince of Nothvale stood on one of the stone balconies that overlooked the inside of his castle. For the first time in years, people were bustling around the place. Maids were cleaning the floors and windows ferociously, seamstresses were sewing new blankets and pillow cases, and the cooks were sending their servants to the markets repeatedly to gather all the ingredients that they would need for the celebratory feast that would follow his wedding.

The prince nearly scoffed aloud when he thought about that. _A wedding, planned by the devil_ the voice in his head laughed. It was rather remarkable, the one thing he never thought he would have, he was getting, and all thanks to his mother. _Yes, but it won't be a happy marriage, she would never allow that. The girl is probably just like her, spoiled and pampered and wicked._ The prince exhaled heavily before turning around, he needed to clear his mind and a visit to the horse stables was exactly what would do it.

---

Christine's journey was, for the most part, uneventful. She saw the ocean for the first time since she was a little girl, and although she begged for her coach to stop, he refused. They were on a very tight deadline, he argued, and he had a family to feed with the money from her successful departure to Nothvale.

Christine was bored to tears during her trip. She had no lady-in-waiting to travel with her, just her guards around her carriage. Apparently, she would receive a slew of ladies once she arrived in Nothvale, and Flerin ladies weren't good enough to serve her once she was the Princess of Nothvale. She had packed books to read, but the weak lighting and constant bumping in her carriage served as a very poor environment to read in. Since she had never learned to sew, that was out of the question as well.

Sunday turned out to be new and different for Christine. When her carriage stopped by the inn they would be staying at that night, her coach opened the door and an older woman, perhaps in her early fifties, stood waiting for her.

"Hello Princess Christine of Flerin, I am Mistress Elizabeth Hollis." The woman said in a strange accent.

"Hello, a pleasure, I'm sure." Christine replied as she stepped down. Once on the ground she quickly assessed the woman. Elizabeth Hollis was taller than she was, and plumper too. Her blonde hair was pulled up on her head in an elaborate bun and her hands were covered in gloves. Christine soon realized that she was getting very close to Nothvale; in fact, she guessed that this woman was a resident of her new country.

"Come, let's go into the inn and have a bite to eat. We have much to talk about." Mistress Hollis said briskly as she turned and made her way into the inn.

Christine quickly learned that Mistress Hollis was not a nice woman. She was sent from the castle by order of the queen so that Christine wouldn't appear ignorant of her new country. Hollis informed her that wearing her hair loose was inappropriate and unacceptable, 'Only whores wear their hair like you do,' that her hands she be covered at all time, 'No man respects an easy woman,' and her attire was unsuitable for the future queen, 'The clothes must look as royal as the wearer.'

Mistress Hollis also briefly filled Christine in on the country's history. They fought for their independence from Kisguard for nearly 400 hundred years. They were a proud people. They worked on Sundays, just like all days. Christine's head swam with information, and she knew she would never be able to retain everything this horrible woman was screeching at her.

"Now, I will be traveling with you in your carriage until you reach the castle. There we will part ways, and you will become the Princess of Nothvale."

Christine merely smiled as she heard the wonderful news.

---

Vincent sat at one of the grand chairs surrounding the main entry's fireplace and watched as his prince paced the carpeted stone floors.

"You are going to have to replace that carpet soon." Vincent remarked, pulling his friend out of his trance-like state.

"What? How can you be so calm? She arrives tomorrow!" The man nearly yelled. Vincent simply shrugged his shoulders.

"I am already married." Vincent replied as he stretched out his long arms and legs and reclined fully in his chair.

"Darling, you look nervous." A high voice called from above them. The prince didn't need to look up to recognize it as his mother's.

"I am nervous mother. The man I hired to kill you is late you see, and that really throws a knot into my plan." He replied as he looked up to the balcony his witch-mother was standing on.

She clicked her tongue at him, "Oh dear boy, you are so very ungrateful. I get you a wonderful present and you say such horrible things to me. Vincent, I assume you have the guard ready to meet our future Princess?"

Vincent stood up to salute and address his queen, not before he noticed his prince roll his eyes at his actions, "Yes, Your Highness. We set out tonight just after our final patrol, and we will met up with her at the inn."

The queen smiled widely, her thin lips nearly disappearing. "Wonderful!" She chirped before she turned around and left.

The prince turned to face Vincent, his golden eyes reflecting the glowing embers, "You are going to her tonight?"

Vincent nodded, "Yes, I will bring you a full status report, of course. I won't be making the journey back with her; I travel ahead of her carriage."

The prince nodded and turned away, making his way back towards his room. "I need a drink."

Vincent chuckled and watched as his friend left.

---

Christine had never been as thankful as when she felt her carriage stop, signaling that they had reached the last inn of her voyage, and that she would be rid of Mistress Hollis. During that day's trip she had rallied off facts of the castle she was to call home faster than Christine could blink.

The castle of Nothvale's royalty was called Dunvegen, after the King who had freed the country from the tyrannical kingdom of Kisgaurd. Currently, the castle and country was run by Queen Gwendolyn Despri, and her son Prince Erik Despri, her fiancé. Prince Erik was the only child, and obviously the heir to the throne. He was twenty seven years old and never married. After that, Mistress Hollis rattled on about the country and what crops it produced and Christine merely nodded and pretended to listen.

Prince Erik. Christine let her mind wander; He was only ten years her senior, so at least she wasn't marrying someone old enough to be her father. _He is closer in age to Augustus than me_, Christine thought but quickly dismissed it. It was very rare for a girl to be the same age as her husband, she should be lucky he wasn't some diseased old man. Did he know what she looked like? Is that why she was part of the treaty? If that was true, he must be a spoiled, selfish boy, using his power to force a girl he had never met to marry him.

Christine was still thinking about her fiancé when she stepped out of her carriage, but her mind quickly jumped to the sight of the inn.

"Oh…" Christine exclaimed as her blue eyes took in the sight of her last resting place.

It was exquisite. The outside shone in the early evening light; obviously it was made with marble. It had a dark burgundy trim and above the door was a golden falcon, a crown in its claw.

"That's the royal crest of Nothvale." Mistress Hollis quickly pointed out as she made her way inside.

The inside of the grand inn matched the outside. It had a huge fireplace, lush carpets and beautiful tapestries on the wall. Christine realized that this must be the last inn that every important person who travels to Nothvale stays in. Christine was about to retire to her room when she heard a man's voice from behind her.

"Princess Christine of Flerin?"

Christine nearly jumped a foot in the air. When she turned around she was faced with what she guessed to be a Nothvale guard. "Yes?"

The man bowed low, "I am Vincent Regin, Captain of the Guard. I assume you have had a safe and comfortable trip thus far?"

Christine immediately relaxed and nodded, "Yes, thank you. My trip has gone very smoothly."

Vincent took a moment to examine the girl before him. She was tiny, he guessed barely above five and a half feet tall. But she was a beauty; her eyes were bluer than any sky he had ever seen and her hair a lovely mass of chocolate curls. He nearly sighed; Prince Erik would not be pleased. "Then I am glad. Now, I am sure you are tired from your travel and your teachings," Vincent tilted his head slightly in Mistress Hollis' direction and winked at the girl, "So I shall let you retire. It was simply my duty to make sure you had arrived to Nothvale Inn safe and sound."

Christine smiled, "The prince wouldn't want damaged goods, is what you are really saying."

Vincent smiled back and held back a laugh. She was pretty and clever! "Exactly, Princess."

---

Erik was a wreck. His normally impeccable suit was disheveled, and his dark hair hung loose around his masked face. He was sitting at the grand table he conversed with Vincent the night before, waiting for the Captain of the Guard to return. He needed to know what the girl was like, and damn it, it was nearing noon. She would be here within the hour.

Just as he was ready to tear his hair out, Erik heard footsteps. Vincent stepped into the room and briefly saluted. Erik impatiently waved it away, "Well?!"

Vincent dropped into his normal stance. "Well?"

"What does she look like!? What did she act like!? Dear God Vincent, do not toy with me right now!"

Vincent chuckled as he walked over to the fireplace. "She seemed nervous. She is rather short, but she seemed…pleasant." In all honesty, little Christine of Flerin looked like an angel. Vincent had watched her as she relaxed in the inn's longue, and she seemed polite and well-mannered. She had seen right through his motive, and he admired a girl who could think. He suddenly felt a wave of pity for her. How sad that a girl like her had been pulled into a feud between a mother and son.

Erik didn't reply, he just ran his hand through his hair and stared at the fire. Vincent seemed to approve of her, yet that didn't change anything. There was a reason his mother had picked _this_ girl, and if it took him to the end of his days, he would find out.

"Vincent, you're back!" The queen called as she entered the room. "Erik, you are a wreck, go and get ready to meet your fiancé!" She barked. Erik scowled, but left the room, apparently to go and ready himself. "So, she was in good condition? Her dowry was still intact?" The queen asked once Erik had left the room.

Vincent nodded, "Yes, Your Highness, everything was in good condition. She said she had suffered no hardship on her journey, and she looked to be in fine spirits."

"Good, she will need to be, she is getting married tomorrow, after all." The queen replied, "Now, if you will excuse me, I must go check the kitchens, Lord knows they haven't had to prepare a meal like this in years!"

Vincent saluted as his queen passed him by. Then he heard the sound of horns blaring outside. It seemed the princess had arrived.

---

Thanks to everyone for their feedback! To address one issue though, yes I did have a crazy amount of spelling/grammar mistakes in those last two chapters and I apologize! I don't have a beta reader, it's just me, myself and I. I guess I was so out of shape in the writing department that my personal spell checker was out of it to. I promise to be extra diligent about that stuff.

Also in the last chapter, when Augustus was talking to Christine, I said the people of Esterguard instead of the people of Nothvale. I had just finished reading a completely different story and that was the setting, I suppose it was stuck in my mind. Sorry about any confusion that may have caused!


	8. Arrival

Arrival

---

Christine's breath hitched in her throat as she heard the horns start blaring, announcing that she had arrived. She felt the carriage slow, and above the roar of the horns she heard a deep grating sound; she assumed it was the gates being lifted so she could enter. She had finally arrived. She longed to look outside her carriage window, but fear and apprehension had paralyzed her. All too soon, her carriage jolted to a stop and the door was opened, allowing a ray of blinding sunlight to flood her senses. Christine took a deep breath and stepped out, holding the hand of her coach man in a death grip, it was the only thing that kept her standing as she looked around her new home.

---

Queen Gwendolyn watched from the steps of her castle as her son's bride stepped from her carriage. Her eyes were starting to fail her as she continued to age, and she was a small distance away, but even she could see the girl's obvious beauty. A sinister smile danced over her lips, her plan was working out in a way she couldn't have even dreamt! She watched as the nervous girl was led up to her, and she tried her best to put a warm smile on her hateful face.

"Hello, my dear girl, and welcome to Nothvale!" Happy shouts and applause followed the queen's welcome, as everyone had now heard about the arrival and gathered to watch.

Christine was still trembling as she reached the steps and she heard her future mother-in-law's greeting. She bowed her head low, "Thank you, Your Highness."

Now that the girl was up close, the queen examined her more thoroughly. She was obviously Flerian, she was shorter than the other girls, and her body lacked the strong build of the Nothvale people. Most notable was her rich brown hair that hung loose around her shoulders in perfect curls. The woman of Nothvale never had such dark hair; even the few brunettes could not boast such a dark color. Well, of course there was one other in Nothvale with such dark hair, but Gwendolyn did not dwell on him.

"I am so glad you are finally here child, there is much to get you ready for." The queen smiled again, but Christine silently noticed that the mirth did not extend to her eyes.

---

Nicolette sat outside in the palace gardens, her heart heavy. The castle was far from empty, but without her Christine flowing through the place like a spring breeze it seemed oddly dead to her. Even the roses that bloomed around her seemed to have lost their luster since the departure of her daughter. Nicolette was drawn from her sad spell by Bayard's arrival.

"Yes?" She asked without looking at her advisor.

"A letter has arrived, Your Majesty, from the Queen of Nothvale."Bayard said with a deep bow as he handed his queen the letter.

She anxiously snatched the letter. It had been a week since Christine left, meaning that she must have just arrived. Why had the Nothvale queen written to her again? Had she rejected the treaty?

Nicolette's blue eyes turned to slits as she read the short letter and she crumpled it in rage.

---

Meg let out a frustrated huff. She was sitting beneath a large tree, an open book in her hands, "This is hopeless Raoul!"

Raoul turned his attention from the letter he was writing to glance up at the blonde, "No, it's not hopeless. Christine asked me to teach you to read, and I will! Now look here, 'ch' makes a 'chuh' sound, like 'chair.' Really, it isn't hard once you learn…"

Meg brushed some fallen blonde hair out of her eyes and sighed again, trying to solidify her patience as she listened to Raoul recite his lessons again.

---

Christine followed the queen and her array of guards and servants into the grand castle. The place was stunning, albeit different, and Christine tried to drink it all in as she was quickly ushered along. Along the walls there were brilliant tapestries and statues, one wall was covered in a marbled painting. Christine tried to pause to look at it, but she was hastily hurried along.

Finally she came to rest in a grand hall. The queen said something about attending to some political matters, but Christine barely heard her. Her attention was wholly placed on the large portrait that hung on the wall above her.

It was obviously a portrait of the queen in her younger days, but what captured Christine's attention was the two boys, young men, in the painting with her. She had one on her left side and her right, and both were beautiful. The one of the right had golden hair and eyes so green that they would put any jewel to shame. Christine had once read a book of Greek mythology, and she knew that before her eyes was the mortal image of Apollo. As beautiful as he was, Christine's eyes were drawn to the boy on the left.

His eyes caught Christine's attention. They remaindered her of a wild cat. They were a golden color, like a jar of honey held up to the sun. His hair was dark, and it fell down across his face, making a stark contrast between lightness and darkness and giving him a rather mischievous, though charming, look. She wondered how much of the portrait had been enhanced by the artist and how much was the true likeness of the two men.

Christine had no idea who they were; her only clue was the armor they wore in the painting. She was about to ask one of the servants standing beside her when she heard a familiarly shrill voice pierce the air.

"I see you have not learned yet how to dress properly." Christine whipped her head down from the breath taking painting to stare at Mistress Hollis, "Oh well, we shall fix that soon enough. Come with me."

Christine was then hurried from the grand hall, her destination unbeknownst to her. She allowed herself one backwards glance at the portrait, and out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw someone dart in the shadows of the balcony above her.

---

Christine found that she had been whisked into what could only be called as a torture chamber disguised as a cosmetician's. In a flurry of motion she felt her dress being tugged from her as her body was dropped into a bath of freezing water. She gasped as the ice water stung her nerves.

"The cold water will bring out a rosy hue." Mistress Hollis squawked as she oversaw the beautifying operation.

Christine shivered as she eyed the woman, hate coursing through her veins. Two maids appeared and poured in some scented oils. Christine barely noticed as the floral scents wafted through the air. Next the two girls furiously scrubbed her body with salts.

"Ouch!" Christine cried through chattering teeth, but her exclamation fell on deaf ears.

Finally, she was pulled from the tub. Christine tried to cover her naked body with her arms, but the two maids who had given her the 'bath' yanked them from her as they started painting a thick, warm crème-like substance over her body.

"This will remove your hair dear. It may sting…" Mistress Hollis said as Christine turned her confused eyes towards her.

Christine opened her mouth to ask more about the substance but instead she let out a loud yelp as one of the girls ripped the now dried cream from one of her legs. Christine felt her blue eyes fill with stinging tears and she prayed for her horrible ideal to end quickly.

---

"VINCENT!" Erik roared as he tore across the grounds to the guard station. He banged the door open, startling some of the off duty guardsmen, who clumsily tried to salute the prince as his wild eyes searched the room, "WHERE IS HE?" He roared.

"My Lord?" Vincent inquired as he calmly walked down from the upper story of the station.

"Pleasant? PLEASANT!? That is the word you used to describe her!?" Erik bellowed. He had watched from the shadows as the girl entered his castle. He followed her train to the great hall, where he observed as she gazed at the famous portrait. He was sure he did not breathe once as he watched her; her beauty had stolen that ability from him.

"I apologize if I mislead you My Lord, it was not intentional." Vincent stated calmly, not at all surprised at his prince's reaction to the girl, "I found her appearance in no way offending-"

"YOU KNEW DAMN WELL SHE WAS AN ANGEL!" Erik roared knocking one of the tables inside the small room over in his anger, sending the two guards he had scared early flying from the room. Miserably, Erik collapsed into the now vacant chair, "That was why she did it. That evil woman knew she was an Angel, and she brought her here to torture me."

Vincent's face fell as he heard the despair in his friend's voice. He didn't say anything; he simply closed the remaining distance between himself and his prince and clasped a strong hand on his trembling shoulder.

---

Christine was exhausted. She had spent over three ghastly hours being 'pampered.' Finally she was allowed to look in the mirror, and she barely recognized herself.

Her chocolate curls had been washed and soaked in scented oil, and then pinned onto her head in a beautiful up-do. Her hair shone like she had embers of fire in it. Her heavy eyelashes had been painted and lined with black kohl, magnifying the blue of her eyes to a degree she didn't think possible. Then Mistress Hollis had picked out a dark burgundy dress edged with gold, the colors of Nothvale.

"Now you look fit to be a Princess." Mistress Hollis said as she handed Christine a pair of satin gloves.

---

Nicolette stormed through her castle, her rage uncontainable. She had been duped. She had traded her only daughter blindly. Her darling Christine, a lamb led to the slaughter by her own mother. She was aware that Bayard was in the room with her, but he allowed her fury to fume without interruption. She knew he had read the letter once she had thrown it on the ground, and she knew that he was in just as shocked at the twist fate had just taken.

Finally, Nicolette's fury faded to sorrow and she collapsed into a chaise, her mournful sobs permeating the air. Bayard stepped forward nervously and placed a consoling hand on his queen's back, his heart breaking with every wracking sob.

---

After her beauty session, Christine was shown to her rooms and informed that her new ladies-in-waiting would arrive within moments. And they did.

Three girls, none of them any older than Christine bustled into the room within moments of her own arrival. They introduced themselves as Justine, Elizabeth and Georgina. Christine felt shy under their curious eyes. All three of them were taller than her, not by much, but by enough to make her feel even less comfortable than she already did. Elizabeth and Justine had blonde hair and Georgina a mixture of red and gold, and they all crooned over how lucky she was to have such dark hair. They remarked on how petite she was, and Christine knew what they really meant was she was too slim. They were all plumper than her, causing them to have more womanly curves. Christine felt like a cow brought to market. She knew they were assessing her, determining if they thought her beautiful enough, worthy enough. Christine was suddenly very thankful at a knock at the door. The grand feast was beginning. Christine was led to the banquet hall, followed by her ladies, and their whispers.

---

Gwendolyn watched as Princess Christine entered the room, as did everyone else seated at the huge table. She was a sight to see, to be sure! The two maids and Mistress Hollis had done a wonderful job and preparing her for the feast, which included all the nobles in the region and their servants. The queen waited for Christine as she was led to her seat of honor next to the queen herself. She noticed without surprise that the seat on her left, Erik's, was empty. The queen offered a false smile at the obviously petrified child as she rose.

"I propose a toast!" She said, raising her golden drinking glass. The others seated at the table quickly raised theirs, "To my future daughter. May she find nothing but happiness in her new home, and may her presence bring peace at last!" Gwendolyn took a long sip of her wine, and her subjects quickly answered in hearty 'here here's' and sipped their own wine.

Christine turned as red as a rose as all the attention was once again focused on her. She was afraid to eat, because she knew all eyes were upon her, but she knew that if she didn't, she would surely faint from over exhaustion and under nourishment. She took tiny bites of the savory food before her, and although her stomach begged her to satisfy it fully she feigned fullness after just one coarse. Between her tiny bites she roamed the table, searching for any indication that her fiancé was in the crowd. Surely he must be, but why had he failed to introduce himself?

After the feast Christine was led back to her chambers and bid farewell to her ladies. A servant came and helped undress and brushed down her long hair. As she closed the door behind her, Christine breathed a sigh of relief. She was alone. She longed for nothing more than to climb into her new strange bed and go to sleep, but first she sat at the desk in the corner and penned a note to her mother. She sealed it with the still foreign looking crest of Nothvale and stifled a yawn, at last giving into her desires and climbing into her bed.

---

Just down the hall, Erik gave up trying to sleep. He knew that he would receive none. He sighed as he left his bed, putting back on a shirt and pants. Silent as a ghost, he wandered down through the castle and out to the horse stables.


	9. The Point of No Return

The Point of No Return

---

_Christine found herself walking down a strange hallway, one she had never seen. It was dark and she could hear the sound of water dripping from somewhere, slow and steady, just like her heartbeat. She continued down the corridor, noticing that the farther she went, the darker it got._

"_I'm dreaming…" Christine heard herself murmur, and although she felt fear grip her insides, she continued down into the dark._

_Soon she had to squint to see. The faint light that still reached her was casting shadows along the walls, making her unsure of what was real and what was just the darkness. She was about to turn back when she saw a pin prick of light ahead. She continued towards it, the figurative moth to the flame. The light continued to grow, and soon she could see that it was coming from a room up ahead._

_Except, it wasn't a room, more like a cavern. As she continued to walk she noticed that water had appeared around her._

"_A cave?" Christine questioned aloud. Her voice echoed around her like thunder, confirming her suspicions. She looked around. There were curious rock formations all around her, and candles situated along them, causing the stones to twinkle. Christine felt her fear slowly dissipate, until she noticed the figure over in the corner._

"_Hello?" Again, her voice boomed through the cave, yet the stranger paid no attention. She took a tentative step forward, reminding herself silently that this was just a dream. Finally, she was just a breath away from the person, a man, "Hello, can you hear me?" She whispered._

_Then he turned around, and Christine gasped. It was the dark haired man from the portrait. He was dressed all in black instead of the armor, but she knew as soon as she saw those golden eyes that it was him. Those eyes were boring into her now, and Christine felt as if they could see all of her thoughts. They frightened her, yet somehow she couldn't look away. She felt herself back up, but where there had been nothing but space behind her a second ago was now solid stone. She was cornered, and the gold-eyed man was blocking her only escape. Christine felt her heart beat against her chest like it was a hammer, surely he could hear the beating echoing in this place? _

_Those eyes! Christine was still unable to pull herself away from them. She wanted to look around, look for help, a way out, at the ground, anywhere other than those eyes. She resented the power they had over her. She watched them as the man took another step forward, his body nearly touching her. She could feel his breath, and she felt blush burn on her face. He was much closer than what was proper, but she wasn't sure if she wanted him to move away. She felt herself shivering, although she wasn't cold, how could she be with those eyes burning into her? She watched his eyes the whole time as he lowered his head and brought his lips crashing down on hers…_

Christine woke with a gasp. She brought her shaky hand to her lips; she could still feel the heat from his kiss.

"Just a dream…" Christine whispered.

"Ah, you're awake." Mistress Hollis' voiced called from her doorway, apparently proper ladies had to wear their hair pinned and their hands covered, but they did not need to knock.

Christine ran her fingers over her lips one more time. She was getting married today; she had no time to dream about strange men! She felt a blush rise to her cheeks as she hurried out of bed. No doubt Hollis had some new form of torture waiting just for her.

---

Erik was a bundle of nerves, to say the least. He had ridden his horse as much as he could, but although sleep was an elusive friend for him, it was not for his stallion. He had tried his best to fall asleep, he even thought about drinking to help him, but he didn't want to have to deal with the ceremony with a blinding head ache, it was already going to be hard enough.

_This ceremony is a sham to begin with_ he thought bitterly. His mother wanted to embarrass him, to give him a beautiful bride so that she could watch as she shunned him. Well, he wouldn't let her have that joy. He would go through with today's game, he knew that a war would follow if he refused, but that was it. He would be married by law to that girl, but he would not enjoy her as a husband should. _Is that fair to her?_ The damned voice of his conscience whispered in his mind. No, it wasn't fair, but life wasn't fair, just because she was beautiful did not make her immune to that fact! Erik growled angrily as he stalked through the castle. No, life was not fair.

---

Vincent woke early, as he did every morning. He looked over at his sleeping wife as he got out of the bed as silently as he could. His Melinda was certainly not the town's beauty, but in his eyes, she was perfect. Her caramel colored hair fell around her sleeping face like a halo, bringing a smile to the man's face.

"I can feel you staring at me…" Melinda's sleepy voice called as she blinked her eyes open.

"I wasn't staring, I was admiring." Vincent answered as he started to get dressed.

"Aren't you the charmer this morning? Have you done something wrong?" Melinda asked with good humored suspicion.

Vincent feigned indignation, "You wound me with your accusations!"

Melinda laughed as she grabbed her robe from the foot of the bed, "You better hurry or your children will wake up before you have the chance to sneak away."

Vincent nodded as he hurried to dress. His three children, all boys and all under the age of twelve, were a force to be reckoned with. They weren't hellions, they were just boys, and they hated it when he had to go to work, although they were proud that their Papa was the Captain of the Guard. "You're right…" Vincent gave his wife a quick kiss as he ducked out the door.

---

Christine studied herself in the mirror as she was helped into her wedding dress. Her hair had been done up again, this time it was laced with pearls and jewels. Her maid had once again tried to line her eyes with kohl but Christine refused it. She had never been one for much make-up, and she didn't want to start now. Her corset had been tightened further than it had even been before, making breathing difficult and painful. It was all going to be worth it though, Mistress Hollis chanted as she watched Christine suffer again.

The dress came into Christine's view and she felt her mouth drop slightly. To say it was beautiful was an understatement. It was as white as fresh snow and lined with burgundy; the beading on the bodice was so intricate and tiny she knew it had taken many months to make it. Christine eyed the neckline suspiciously; it was scooped rather low. Christine touched the skirt of the dress reverently, pleasantly surprised when she felt the cool silk beneath her fingers. She felt unworthy to touch the dress, much less wear it. It was something an angel would wear, not a girl who didn't even want to get married.

"Do you know who made this dress?" Christine asked as her maid tied her into it.

The maid coughed nervously several times before answering, "Yes, Princess. I, well, my sister and me, we made it."

Christine looked down in shock. This was the maid that had done her hair today and the day before, and both times it had looked beautiful, but the dress was simply a work of art! "It's a master piece! What's your name?"

Christine could tell the attention was making her maid nervous; she was wringing her hands and avoided her gaze. "Jeanette, Your Highness."

"Jeanette, thank you for this dress, and my hair. You are an artist to be sure." Christine lauded.

"You're welcome!" The maid quickly dropped into a curtsey and went back to tying the strings.

---

Gwendolyn sat in the front pew and watched her son. He was as still as a statue, yet she knew he was panicked, and that brought a pleasant smile to her face. She was dressed all in black, as was everyone else in the crowded church. After all, today was a day of mourning.

The bitter queen's attention was diverted from her inner musings to the back of the church. The doors had opened and the bride was entering.

---

Christine's face was covered with a heavy veil, and her eyes were clouded with a thin layer of tears, although she did her best to fight them off. She would not pity herself. She could learn to love her husband, and her country would be safe. She was the key. She could do this.

Christine continued to silently chant her mantra as she walked down the carpeted aisle. She watched her feet as she walked, afraid to trip over her beautiful dress and ruin it. Soon, she had reached the steps. She saw the steps, and she saw the black shoes of her husband, but she was too afraid to look up.

---

Erik felt his heart stop as the doors to the church opened. There she was, an absolute vision of heaven. She took small, agonizingly slow, steps. Erik felt his stomach churn as she inched nearer and nearer. His palms were sweating, his breathing erratic and painful. Could his mother tell? Was she laughing even now?

And then, she was there. Standing next to him, head bent towards the ground. Erik turned to face the priest, thankful to have a reason to look away from the seraph before him.

---

Christine continued to look down as the priest performed the ceremony. The majority of it was in Latin, so it was long and tedious. Her nerves were beyond frazzled, and she just wanted to have this over and done with.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Christine heard those fateful words.

"You may now kiss the bride…" Christine turned to face her now husband, although her eyes were still downcast. She could see his hands rise to the bottom of her veil, was it just her or were they shaking as badly as hers were? Then slowly, ever so slowly, she felt her veil slip up and over her head. She lifted her eyes slowly and nearly gasped.

---

"You may kiss the bride…" To Erik, he may have been reading off his death sentence. Kiss her? He felt torn. He had to, to finalize the marriage, but he couldn't. He felt the panic in him rising and his anger flared. This _girl_ was not the first he had ever kissed! _She's the first since_, no he would not think it. Today was the anniversary, but he would not think on it. With new resolve he turned to face his bride and began the arduous task of raising her veil.

Once he had laid the gossamer fabric against her shining curls he looked down at her. He had yet to see her this close and he felt his body flood with desire. Her dark eyelashes rested against her porcelain skin like butterfly wings. But then she lifted those lashes, and brought her eyes level with him and he had to use all the will power he had left not to gasp.

---

Gwendolyn watched in twisted amusement as the priest announced it was time to kiss the bride. She knew Erik was fighting a battle, to kiss or not to kiss, and she felt a sick sense of pleasure. How very sad that kissing a beautiful girl was anguish. How very sad that the whole kingdom knew it, yet pretended otherwise. At least, everyone did except for her. She continued to watch as Erik hesitated, watched as their eyes met, and then watched as he lowered his head and brought his mouth down on hers.

---

Christine stood face to face with the man from the painting and her dream…almost. The right side of his face was covered in a white mask, yet the left side was indisputably the one she had already seen. And those eyes, they were there again, burning and smoldering right to her soul.

---

Erik stood transfixed by her eyes. They were the most captivating shade of blue he had ever seen. He could see the apprehension and fear in them, but something else as well. It was that something that gave him the courage to lean his head down and place his lips against hers.

---

Christine felt his lips like they were a hot brand. They sent a charge straight down to her toes. She felt her heartbeat speed up to what she was sure was an unsafe tempo and her body lean closer to the man of its own accord. Then, it was over. Christine felt the sudden absence of his lips and opened her eyes, blush raging into her face like a fire over dry paper. She quickly dropped her head down, wishing for nothing more to disappear.

---

Erik knew as soon as his lips touched hers that she would be his undoing. His blood turned to fire in his veins, and then she leaned into him and he wondered for an instant if he had died. His arm ached to wrap around her little waist and pull her even closer, his tongue yearned for a chance to taste hers, but then his mind reminded him _she will never kiss you again, once she knows._ Erik pulled away from the kiss, failing to notice the look of disappointment and longing in his wife's blue eyes.

"Christine." He heard a voice whisper beside him as the people in the pews stood and clapped, his mother noticeably absent from the celebration.

"My name, its Christine…" He looked over at her, surprised to see a small, timid smile on her face, "I figured you would want to know, since we just got married…"

Erik felt like smiling for the first time in years.

---

A/N: A little longer than I usually write, but there was no good stopping place. Our pair finally meets! Things are going to start getting a lot angst-ier in the next couple of chapters thought, because let's be honest; it isn't Erik and Christine if there's no angst.


	10. The Wedding Night

The Wedding Night

---

Christine made sure she kept her eyes focused on her plate. All around her people were talking and laughing and eating. This was the celebratory feast of her wedding, and next to sat her new husband, and he seemed to be enjoying himself just as much as she was. They had been ushered to the feast immediately following their ceremony, and Christine did her best to keep a smile plastered on her face as she entered. The feast was much like the one she attended last night, she even recognized a few faces, yet the cheer that was surrounding her only amplified her own sadness. She had tried catching her new husband's eye a couple times once they had taken their seats, yet he seemed determined to keep his masked face away from her.

_I wonder why he wears it..._ Christine caught herself wondering more than once. _Don't be stupid Christine, people only wear a mask to hide something. But what?_ Christine's curiosity gnawed at her, but something inside kept her from asking. In fact, she had not spoken a word to the man since she told him her name. He probably thought she was half mute, or stupid, or both. Christine continued to sit in silence and eat her meal, noticing that he didn't touch his plate. Perhaps he was unhappy with her? Had she already managed to offended him? _What if he tries to annul the marriage!_ The frantic thought ran through her head, but Christine dismissed it. Nothvale was the one who requested her! Surely they wouldn't send her home just because her intended found her...what? Was she not pretty enough? Was she too different looking from the other Nothvale women? Christine continued to ponder, but she could not find the answer.

Soon, the meal was finished and the tables were pushed to the side walls for dancing. The minstrels tuned up their instruments before they started a lively tune. Christine watched with a smile as the couples got up to dance. Back in Flerin, there had always been dancing after supper and Christine was glad that dancing was not something forbidden in this strict land.

"Christine, do you know how to dance?" Christine turned her head at the sound of the Queen's voice. She was standing next to her chair, a smile so obviously fake plastered on her face that Christine wondered why she even bothered. Queen Gwendolyn looked older than her own mother, or perhaps age had not been as kind? Her wrinkles sat deep in her skin, which looked papery and too pale. Her lips had withered away to thin lines, but she continued to wear a heavy layer of stain on them. Maybe, once upon a time, she had been considered handsome, but now she was nothing but a shell of her former self. Christine also noticed something in her dark eyes, a glint that she did not recognize when she looked into her own mother's eyes, it seemed cold, no matter how nice her words may have sounded.

"I do." Christine replied with a polite smile.

"Wonderful! I know that my son is a great dancer. Erik, why aren't you dancing with your bride?" Christine noticed how the Queen's voiced changed from an amiable chatter to almost a bark as she directed her voice towards her son.

Christine was about to open her mouth and protest, if Erik had wanted to dance with her she was sure he would have asked by now, but she was stopped as she felt a hand grasp her own. She looked down at the black gloved hand, it belonged to Erik. Before another word was spoken she was being led to the dance floor.

Erik towered nearly a foot over his new bride. Christine had to strain her neck to look up at his face, although she wasn't sure why she bothered, he did not once look down at her. He kept clenching his jaw, almost like he was in pain. Christine felt her face burn as she dropped her gaze back to his rather broad chest. She silently marveled at how much bigger he was than any man she had ever met. The men back in Flerin were not nearly so broad chested, not even Raoul who worked hard in the stables all day had the obvious muscles she felt in her new husband's stiff form. She was careful to perform all of the steps of the dance correctly, she was afraid what her husband would do if she embarrassed him in front of everyone, but still he seemed like dancing with her was torturous. Christine felt her throat sting, a sure sign that tears were threatening to overflow her blue eyes. She fought them off, and not a moment too soon the song ended.

Erik released her as soon as the song ended and he silently stalked back to his chair. Christine stood frozen for a moment and was about to head back when a familiar voice called to her.

"Princess Christine, may I?" Christine turned to see the guard she met at the Nothvale Inn. He was bowing and offering his hand, and a warm smile, and Christine immediately sighed her relief.

She was about to accept his request, but then her thoughts traveled back to her mysterious new husband. Would this anger him? She turned to look at him, but he was, not surprisingly, looking away from her. "Don't worry about Erik, he won't object. And I can assure you that I am a happily married man." Christine heard the man reassure, and she turned her head back to him and accepted his dance request without another moment's thought.

"Your name is Vincent, right?" Christine asked as he lightly placed his arm around her tiny waist.

The guard captain nodded, "You have an excellent memory to go with your excellent dancing, Princess." Vincent smiled as he twirled his partner around the dance floor.

She felt a blush tinge her cheeks, "Thank you, sir. You are an excellent partner."

"You are too kind to an old man!" Vincent jested and Christine felt herself laugh, the first time she had since arriving in Nothvale. They continued to dance and joke through the song, and just as she had been begging for her dance with Erik to end, she found spirits softly sink when her dance with Vincent came to an end.

"Thank you for the wonderful dance, My Lady, but I am afraid I must return you to your brooding husband before my wife accuses me of neglect." Vincent said as he dropped his arm and bowed his thanks.

"So he always broods like this? It isn't just me?" Christine asked, hope rising in her chest.

Vincent laughed heartily, "Oh no, you'll see in time. Erik is a brooder by nature, but he is a good man. He served under me for a number of years and I would trust him with not only my life, but the life of my family as well."

Christine immediately thought back to the portrait she had been so taken with the day before, remembering the armor the two men wore. They must have been part of the army! And if Erik served under Vincent, then surely the blonde man did as well! "Who is the blonde man in the portrait with my husband in the grand entrance hall?" Christine asked just as Vincent was about to walk about.

At once, Christine regretted her question. She saw as Vincent's kind eyes clouded over, and he shook his head sadly, "That, My Lady, is not my tale to tell."

Christine apologized and parted ways from the captain, although her mind continued to dwell on their conversation.

---

Erik watched as Christine danced with Vincent, envy coursing through him. How easily they seemed to move across the stone floor, and how happy she looked, chatting and laughing with him like she had known him her whole life!

_You could have had that, did you not just dance with her yourself?_ His mind sneered at him. Yes, he had just danced with her! But to think that he could just gayly float around the floor with her was absurd. His mother knew that, which is exactly why she suggested he dance with her in the first place. Erik turned his gold eyes to his mother's seat, not at all surprised to see her watching Christine and Vincent like a snake eying its prey. She must be feeling insanely proud of herself, and Erik felt his blood boil. She may have the upper hand at the moment, but she would not defeat him.

Erik's attention was drawn away from his mother when he heard a sweet voice at his right. Christine's dance had ended and she had returned to her seat next to him.

"Vincent assured me that he had your approval to dance with me, My Lord..."

Erik turned his head to look at the girl, the first time he had allowed himself to since kissing her. The worry in her blue eyes did not slip past him, "He did. Vincent is a good man, I trust he treated you with nothing but respect?"

Christine nodded and offered him a small smile, a smile that he did not return, "He said the same about you. That you were a good man."

Erik arched his one visible brow, "Did he now?" he murmured, but offered nothing more.

Christine again nodded. She was glad that he was finally looking at her, and even gladder that it was not a look of disgust, but she found his golden eyes robbed her of her ability to speak. After a moment she managed to find her voice again, "He also mentioned you served under him for a number of years."

Christine watched as his body noticeably stiffened and she bit her lip, this was obviously a topic she should not have brought up.

"I did." Erik replied and promptly looked back to the dance floor, his eyes gazing at no one couple in particular.

Christine yearned to ask him more, to be more specific, she yearned to ask him about the second man in the painting, but she was no fool. Maybe one day she would learn how to converse with her husband, but it would not be now.

---

The night continued. Various nobles and people of the court came and wished their congratulations to the new couple. Soon the minstrels played their final song, and then, the celebrations were over.

Christine felt any icy wave of fear. The celebrations were over, which meant, it would be time to go to bed. Her wedding bed. Christine thought back to the night she snuck to Raoul's humble cottage. That had been a foolish move, had he accepted her offer right away and gone through with her half-thought scheme, surely her new husband would have rejected her. He did not look like the type who would have been understanding. Christine was led to her room by Jeanette and the maid quickly got busy preparing her for her husband. She removed the pins from her hair and then she removed the beautiful wedding dress, then her corset and dress stockings. Christine was trembling like a leaf by the time Jeanette finished helping her into her nightgown and robe.

"Come along now..." Jeanette gently cooed to her as she clasped Christine's icy hand and led her down the many corridors that would take them to the prince's chambers.

Christine was unsure of what to expect, but she knew that a large gathering of people was not it. There had to be at least ten people in the room. She looked at Jeanette, confusion written all over her beautiful face.

"They are here to bless your marriage bed. There's a priest in the back, I'm sure." Jeanette explained as she slowly released Christine's hand and led her to the throng of men. She was right, there, at the very back, was a priest. He held a bible and a bottle of water, Christine assumed it was holy water from the church, but he did not met her gaze. Jeanette helped Christine into the bed and then promptly left the room.

Christine continued to shake with fear as the priest read passages out of the bible. She paid no heed to what he was saying, instead she busied herself with looking around the room. It was a beautiful chamber, although it was nothing at all like hers. The floor was covered in a lush rug, and the walls were covered in dark tapestries. The desk, chairs, settees, and the bed were all made out of a beautiful dark wood and adorned with maroon and gold. The very large fireplace kept the room flooded with warmth and even though it lit up the room, it still felt very dark. She did not know her husband well yet she felt that the room suited him. She continued to scan the room, looking for the man in the mask, but she did not see him.

Christine's attention was drawn back to the priest when she felt the chill of water hit her head. Apparently he was dousing the bed and her with the holy water. Christine wanted to brush it off, but she didn't know if that was allowed. Her mother, nor Augustus, had told her anything about this ritual, and she wondered if it belonged to Nothvale alone. As soon as the priest seemed satisfied that enough water had been spread, he murmured an 'amen,' as did the rest of the men and turned to exit the room.

Christine sat alone in the bed, she heard nothing but the soft crackle the fire made as it burned. Maybe Erik would not show? _Don't be absurd, Christine. He's a man and its his wedding night,_ Christine scolded herself.

Suddenly she saw a shape enter from the shadows of the room. She bit her lip and watched as he walked towards her, the white of his mask eerily illuminated in the glow of the fire. So this was it. He was here, and now he would join her in the bed, and they would become husband and wife not only in the eyes of the law but also in the eyes of God. As her husband approached, Christine noticed that he was still in the same clothes from earlier.

She watched with bated breath as he finally reached the bed. Her eyes were locked on his, she knew that hers had to be filled with fear, yet his looked emotionless. _How many women did he bed before me? It only scares me because I have never done it..._ Christine felt a blush burn her cheeks. If he wasn't displeased with her before, surely he would be after tonight.

Christine watched as Erik threw back the many covers of the bed and she hastily scrambled to make sure her nightgown covered her legs, but immediately felt silly. They were about to make love, he would be seeing a lot more than her legs. Christine's attention was drawn from her nightgown back to her husband, his right arm held something.

Christine squinted as she tried to discern what it was in the dim light of the room and she felt her heart stop it's frantic beatings when she was able to make it out.

It was a knife.

"M-My L-Lord? W-w-what are you doing?" Christine's voice was laced with fear, and she felt hysteria quickly boiling to the surface as she backed as far away from the side of the bed that Erik now stood before. Had the treaty been a trick? Perhaps Nothvale was determined to go to war, and now she was to be murdered?

Erik simply stared at the scared girl, he didn't offer a single word. He raised his arm slightly and he heard Christine's strangled sob, she was begging him not to kill her. Silently he lowered the blade again and drew it over the palm of his left hand, immediately an angry red line of blood pooled at the surface. He grabbed the sheets and held them for a long moment before dropping them and walking out of the room.

Christine watched in shock as he ran the blade along his own hand, her frightened tears running down her face. What was he doing?! Was this another Nothvale ritual? Why had no one told her about it?! She looked down at the bloody sheets, unaware that her husband had left the room until she heard the soft click of the door as it closed behind him. Understanding washed over her and she collapsed on the pillow, her thankful tears nearly choking her.

---

Erik fumed as he bandaged his bleeding palm. She thought he was going to kill her! Honestly, could he blame her? He had entered the room through the secret passage behind one of his tapestries, and then without warning pulled a knife out. But, kill her? Did he look that frightening? _If only she knew_ the voice in his mind whispered again. Erik roared and turned over the small table that held the medical supplies. She _didn't_ know, and she _never_ would!

---

Christine woke in the morning by a barrage of people entering the room. She looked around frantically, again unsure of what was going on. She spotted Jeanette's face and called to her.

"Jeanette, what's going on!?"

Jeanette hurried to her mistress' side and helped her out of bed, noticing how her face burned to be seen in her nightgown by so many strangers. "They've come to check the sheets, Your Highness."

Christine watched in horror as one of the men ripped the soiled sheets from the bed and carried it out of the room, "Where are they taking them??"

"To the queen."

---

Queen Gwendolyn stared in amazement at the bloody sheets that had been brought to her. Erik had gotten up the nerve to _actually_ consummate the marriage!? She felt her anger build in her stomach.

"Are you surprised, Mother?" Erik asked coolly as he entered her private chambers.

She spun around and glared at her son, her hate nearly tangible, "Why yes, I am. I didn't think you would be able to face your bride, not on the anniversary of _that_." She spit as she pointed a finger towards the right side of Erik's face.

Erik felt his own anger flare, but he did not let it show, "I am too. It must have been because you picked out such a lovely bride for me. Maybe I should thank you for sending her to me, she has already proved to be a wonderful gift."

Gwendolyn balled her fists and screeched, no words suitable enough for her anger. Erik laughed a cold laugh.

"Really Mother, a temper tantrum? At your age?"

"GET OUT! DAMN YOU, GET OUT!" The queen shouted and threw a decorative vase towards the spot her son occupied, although it fell miserably short of its target.

Erik simply tsk'd her behavior before calmly stepping out of the room.


	11. A New Life

A New Life

---

After her rude awakening, Jeanette led Christine back to her own chamber. Christine tried to be aware of her surroundings so that she could make the trip alone if she ever needed to, but her mind was too muddled to properly pay attention. _Why in the Lord's name would the queen want soiled bedsheets? _The answer was obvious, to make sure that she had been a virgin on her wedding night. Christine shivered slightly, this country was already proving to be much different from her home, and a wave of sadness washed over her. She longed to see her mother, not Queen Gwendolyn. Her mind flickered to Raoul, did he miss her? Quickly Christine shoved all thoughts of her former sweetheart from her mind, she was married, and it was wholly inappropriate of her to think of him. Soon Jeanette had brought her to her room. She stood by the door, almost like she was waiting for something. Christine stood in her room puzzled for a moment.

"Would you like to pick your own gown out, My Lady?" Jeanette asked timidly, and Christine felt herself blush. Of course, she was waiting for her to pick out her dress so that she could help her.

"Oh, yes, of course..." Christine stumbled as she made her way into her closet. When she opened the doors, she was surprised to see it was filled completely with gowns. When she arrived yesterday it only had her wedding dress and the few dresses she had brought with her. Had they been able to make all these gowns in just one day!? They couldn't have, that would have been impossible!

"Mistress Hollis sent word ahead of you of your measurements..." Jeanette seemed to understand Christine's shock.

"Oh, that makes sense...what happened to my other gowns?" Christine asked as she browsed through the array of beautiful dresses. She turned to look at Jeanette after she failed to receive an answer.

"Ah, well...the queen did not see them fit for a Nothvale Princess..." Jeanette was playing with the apron on her gown, obviously uncomfortable.

Christine felt a flare of indignation rise within her. Not _fit_ for a Nothvale Princess?! She had brought along some of her finest gowns! Christine took a deep breath and quelled her anger. It was obviously too late now, the gowns were gone. Christine grabbed a deep blue gown and brought it out into her bedroom. Jeanette followed behind her, her eyes still focused on the ground.

After Jeanette helped her into her corset and dress she started on Christine's hair. Just as Jeanette was starting to plait the top half of it, there was a knock on Christine's door.

"Princess?" Christine turned her head to her door when she heard her title called. It was Georgina, or maybe it was Elizabeth, either way, her ladies had arrived. The door cracked open before Jeanette could take a step over to open it for them.

"Hello, please come in..." Christine called from the seat in front of her looking glass, although she was slightly annoyed. This was the second time that someone had entered her chambers without waiting to be received. Perhaps the gowns were better here, but manners were not. Thinking of manners made Christine's thoughts drift to her new husband for the first time that morning. His were utterly deplorable. He did not meet her when he arrived, nor dine with her that first night, and somehow Christine felt fairly certain he was not going to join her for breakfast either.

Christine's thoughts were pulled from he husband when she overheard a muffled giggle. She peaked out of the corner of her eye and saw that her ladies were all sitting on the chaise in the far corner, apparently gossiping about something. Christine's stomach tightened just a little, was it possible they were laughing at her? She watched herself in the mirror as Jeanette deftly braided and pulled up her hair, was she styling it wrong? No, it looked just as lovely as when it had been styled on her first day.

"My cousin told me she laid with him once, and she said that she would never be able to love another man. Of course, that was before..." Christine's ears picked up the whispered rumor and she was shocked. These three were supposed to be her _ladies_ in waiting, and they were talking about...bedroom antics?

"Oh hogwash, your cousin is a liar, Justine. But really, why would he pick _her?_ She looks like a little girl! And Flerian? What's wrong with a Nothvale girl? She simply has no curves at all. Thin as a stick!" Was it possible they wanted Christine to hear them? Jeanette had obviously heard the whisper as well, because her hand hesitated for just a second and her eyes caught Christine's in the mirror.

"He couldn't possibly marry anyone from around here, Georgina. He _had_ to marry a foreigner because of...the incident." Jeanette dropped her gaze immediately when she heard that, and Christine realized that she knew something. Apparently everyone but her knew, whatever this 'incident.' was. Maybe it would explain why everyone was wearing black to a wedding yesterday?

"How queer they married on the anniversary of it, don't you think?" Christine could feel the curiosity in her burn like a fire. What incident?! Could it have anything to do with the mask her new husband wore on half of his face?

Christine wanted so badly to go over there and demand not only answers, but to dismiss the girls from her service and send them back to their homes, but she knew better. She knew nothing around here, and if these three were stupid enough to gossip within earshot of her, then she would not try to ignore it.

After Jeanette was finished with her hair, Christine handed her the letter she had written to her mother and dismissed her. She turned to face her ladies and plastered a fake smile on her face. "There, I think I'm as presentable as I can be. Shall we go eat?"

"Don't forget your gloves, My Lady." One of her ladies remarked as they all stood and made their way to the dining hall.

---

After leaving his mother's room, Erik was at a loss as to what to do. Every fiber in his being wanted to go and find his new wife, if for no other reason that to simply look at her. He knew without a doubt that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. _How very romantic, Erik_. His mind mocked him and he stalked off down towards the basement of the castle. He would go and spend time in his much neglected work room, surely science could distract him from thinking about his new wife.

Once in his stone work room, Erik felt lost. His little flasks and bottles of powders and strange colored liquids did not intrigue him this morning. He walked over to his desk and looked down at some of the blue prints and sketches of machines he was working on, but they too failed to capture his attention. He sighed deeply, frustrated with his inability to think of anything other than those beautiful blue eyes he had briefly got to look into yesterday. Perhaps a ride down to the sea with his horse would calm him....

---

By the end of her breakfast, Christine was in a horrible mood. She had to listen to the most banal conversations, all thanks to Georgina, Justine, and Elizabeth. They chattered on and on about who was chasing whom, how could the baroness of so-and-so wear such an _awful_ hat, did you hear that the count of what-have-you is in love with his wife's maid? They continued on and on, until finally the meal was finished and Christine excused herself.

Now that she was alone, Christine was at a loss. She had no idea how to get anywhere around the castle, and she had no escort. For a moment she was worried she was going to have to go and call back her three harpies, but then she saw Jeanette walking down the opposite corridor.

"Jeanette!" Christine called and the maid stopped immediately.

"Yes, My Lady?" She looked worried, like she was afraid she had done something wrong.

"Is there anyway possible you could accompany me around the castle and its grounds?" Christine asked, not even trying to hide the hope in her voice. So far, Jeanette was the only one in the blasted place that hadn't treated her like a dirty stain on the ground.

"I would love to, but I can't just leave..." Jeanette started to play with her apron again, something she must do when she was nervous Christine decided.

"Of course, I understand. Well, I would like to make you my personal maid, if you wouldn't mind?"

Wouldn't mind? Jeanette nearly laughed. She would much rather follow around her new Princess then have to clean out chamber pots and wash sheets and clean silver all day. "No, My Lady, I would be honored! You would have to speak with Madame Soris, she's the Head Housemaid..."

Christine brightened considerably, "Is there anyway I can speak to her right now?"

"I'll go fetch her for you, just a moment." Jeanette replied as she scurried away.

---

After a little persuading, Christine was able to convince Madame Soris that she greatly needed Jeanette with her all the time, and she was allowed to take her into her service. Christine asked Jeanette to give her a tour of the castle grounds. They went around to the gardens, which were slowly becoming pretty bare giving the coming cold weather, but the leaves on the trees were just starting to turn into a myriad of delightful colors, and then Jeanette took her down to the stables.

"It seems that Prince Erik is out riding his horse right now..." Jeanette remarked as they entered the stables.

Christine had wandered over to a black mare and was stroking her nose gently. She huffed when she heard mention of her husband's name.

"Good for him. Perhaps Flerin is different, but I find his manners to be sorely lacking. He failed to greet me when I arrived, failed to dine with me, and to no surprise; I have yet to see him today." Christine vented, her irritation obvious with every word.

"I'm sure he doesn't mean to slight you, My Lady." Jeanette tried to placate her, but Christine had already worked herself up.

"Well, then that is even worse. It's one thing if he knows his behavior is rude, then at least he could realize it and alter it, but if he is unaware that he is behaving like an arrogant pig then I fear he shall never recover."

"Is that so?" A cool voice filled the stables, and Christine felt her heart still for a moment. She immediately turned around to see her masked husband sitting atop a huge white stallion. Her mouth opened slightly at the intimidating sight, yet her anger backed up her courage and she quickly regained her composure.

"Yes, it is so. Had you traveled a week to a country you had never been to, then I would make sure to greet you and show you around, instead of leaving you to your own devices. Had Jeanette not been able to accompany me, I would have had to stay locked up in my room. Tell me, is this the treatment all visitors get when they come, or was it specially laid out for me?"

Erik dismounted his stallion in one fluid motion, his eyes never leaving the stormy blue of Christine's. Her anger seemed to have brought a spark to them that he did not see yesterday, but even that could not distract him from the anger he felt at being talked down to by this little girl, and in front of the help no less!

"I apologize, I did not know you required a babysitter. Your maid has my thanks for taking up the arduous task."

Jeanette squirmed in the background, unsure of what to do, and silently pleading for the prince and princess to stop mentioning her in their squabble. Christine seemed to sense her maid's mortification and turned her head to look at her.

"Jeanette, I think I will be able to find my way back inside in just a moment. Would you mind terribly to wait for me in my chambers?"

Jeanette hastily bowed a curtsy and exited the stables, more than happy to be rid of the scene.

"But My Lady, how will you ever manage to make it on your own?" Erik asked, his words so heavy with sarcasm you could almost feel them. Christine felt her blood boil and she wanted nothing more than to slap that stupid look of the man's face.

"Despite what you may think, I can retain information. Once shown a path, I can remember how to follow it back, something I plan to do immediately!" Christine found that she was having a hard time keeping her voice under control. She made to walk past Erik, but he grabbed her arm.

It wasn't a violent move, and his grip wasn't painful, yet Christine immediately stopped. She looked down at his glove-covered hand upon her arm, and then back up at the prince's face. Just moments ago it had been twisted in agitation at her rude behavior, but now it looked just as confused as her own.

Erik released Christine's arm nearly as quickly as he grabbed it, and he stumbled an apology, "I beg your pardon, Princess. You are correct when you accuse me of treating you with the respect that you are due."

Christine dropped her eyes to the dusty floor of the stables. "Thank you. I'm sorry for my speech earlier, I was horribly out of line..." Christine felt her cheeks start to tingle with blush, and she suddenly felt very silly standing there in the stables, afraid to look her husband in the eye.

It appeared that neither of them knew what to do next. Christine continued to look at the floor and Erik continued to look at the top of her head, and neither of them spoke a word. Finally, Erik's horse decided it was bored and started to sniff in Erik's pockets for treats.

"What's his name?" Christine meekly asked as she brought her eyes up, although she still wouldn't let them make contact with the prince's.

"Hermes." Erik replied as he handed a carrot slice to his stallion, causing a whinny of delight to erupt from the horse, inciting the others in the stalls to stick their heads out and see what the commotion was. In a matter of seconds the air was filled with whinnies and calls for treats. "Would you care to take a walk with me?" Erik asked above the noise of the horses. Christine nodded.

---

"So, why Hermes?" Christine asked as they both exited the stables.

"Are you familiar with the old Greek Gods?" Erik asked as they started to walk down the path leading away from the stables.

Christine nodded, "Some. I've read Homer's Odyssey and Iliad, of course. My brother was much better in his lessons than I was, he was always talking about the Greeks..."

"Understandable. They were very interesting, and very smart. They invented many of the things we use today. But I digress; I named my stallion Hermes because he was the god of flight and travel..."

"So he's very fast then?" Christine asked, daring for the first time to actually look into Erik's eyes, and at once she wished she hadn't. She felt like she was back in the dream from her first night, rooted to the spot by the mysterious power of his eyes. She tried to dissect what he must be thinking, but his gaze told her nothing, and she was sure hers gave her away. He would be able to see she was paralyzed by his eyes and he would think her sodding crazy. "Why me?" The words slipped out of Christine's mouth without thought or consent, and Christine immediately saw a cloud fall over Erik's face.

Erik wasn't exactly sure how to respond to Christine's question. For just a moment, he had felt hope. He had no silly notation that they would ever love each other, but to be able to converse with her, to have an amiable relationship was almost just as enticing to him. And then she had asked the question he had been wondering since she arrived. Why her? What was it about her that made his mother pick her, for him? It couldn't have been because she was simply beautiful, she had no idea of knowing that when she arranged the treaty.

"My Lord, I didn't mean that. I mean, of course, I'm curious as to why you asked for my hand in a treaty instead of an arrangement, but I--" Christine was stumbling over her words and her face was bright red. She knew that she was making the situation worse the more she spoke, but her mouth refused to stop moving, "You never visited Flerin, or wrote to me, had you even seen me before the wedding?" Christine was spewing her words rapidly, and she doubted the prince even understood her.

"No."

Christine was finally silent. His answer just cause more questions. "I don't want you to think I'm mourning my situation, I was just surprised that I was the sole demand from your country..."

She was the sole demand? Erik silently tucked that piece of information away, although he was burning to ask her more about the treaty. He knew nothing of it other than she arrived because of it. So his mother did not ask for land or gold, just the only daughter of Flerin? "My mother made the demands, not I." Erik watched as Christine's eyebrows furrowed, and he wondered what she was thinking.

"Ah. That's...interesting..." Christine suddenly felt very silly. He hadn't picked her, and he made it obvious last night that he was not happy with his mother's choice. If he had he would have properly consummated the marriage, instead of trying to trick his mother into believing they had. The words from her ladies this morning came back to haunt her '_But really, why would he pick her?_' The truth was, he wouldn't. She was unsure why this news bothered her so much, but it did. _You read too many fairy tales, Christine. _

"Yes. Now, shall we continue, there is a place I thought you might enjoy."

---

A/N: Sorry for the looong absence guys!! Also, this chapter was extremely difficult to write, just because its just a setting stage for the big stuff to come. I didn't mean for it to be this long, I just couldn't really find a good stopping point anywhere. I'm going to try to get another update up before Christmas, but no promises. Also, be on the look out of another story I'm going to start.


	12. The Bull

The Bull

* * *

_A place he thinks I will enjoy?_ Christine mused her strange husband's statement as she followed him from the stables to a small path that veered through the woods. Of course, the polite thing for him to do would have been to offer her his arm so she would not have to scramble to keep up or try not to stumble around on the rocks and branches, but as she had already pointed out, his manners left much to be desired, so after about ten minutes Christine felt herself out of breath and nearly out of patience, but then they suddenly stopped.

Christine was confused for a moment, but then Erik moved aside some low branches and she saw what the trek had led them too. It was a crystal clear pond. Well, not quite a pond, she could see a small stream that led down the way, she assumed to the coast. But the water before her was clear and calm, with rocks jutting around the edges and trees surrounding much of it. It was like a private little oasis. And he had been right, she already enjoyed it.

"Wow, this is beautiful..." Christine murmured as she walked a little closer to the water. She felt herself lamenting the cool weather, for she knew that spending a hot summer day here would be pure heaven.

"It is. I often come here to let Hermes drink when we go riding."

Christine turned to face the masked man who was now leaning against a tree trunk, watching her. "Where does it lead?"

"Down to the ocean. There is an estuary a little further down, although it is not nearly as pretty as this area here. Flerin is landlocked, correct?"

Christine nodded. She had never seen the ocean until she made her trip to her new home. "I'm very glad you showed me this..."

The hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I'm glad. Once the warmer weather sets in you should go down to the beach. I'm afraid its much too cold and windy to be enjoyed now."

Christine nodded again. She studied the man across from her for a moment, her eyes trying to avoid the mask, but she knew she was failing at the task. She knew better to ask about it, at least not yet. She did, however, wish to know more about her husband.

"Have you ever been married before?" She asked, walking closer to where he stood.

He had noticed her eyes drift to his mask, and he felt his blood start to race nervously. How long before she asked about it? He was grateful when he heard her question, although surprised by it. Did he seem like he had been married before? "No. Have you?"

Christine laughed. "No, but I'm just shy of seventeen. I still have plenty of time for second marriages."

The sound of her laughter made something inside of his chest stir, and he was able to appreciate her small joke. It was almost enough to make him ignore just how young she was. Practically still in the nursery. And he was nearing thirty. "I should probably lead you back to the castle now..."

"Perhaps. Although, this time you should offer me your arm and properly lead me." She quipped, satisfied to see a small spark of shock pass across his face at her forwardness. Nonetheless, he offered her his arm and lead her back as a husband should lead his wife.

* * *

When the pair returned to the stable, Christine was slightly surprised to see Jeanette waiting on them. "Yes?" Erik inquired of the girl, and Christine couldn't help but noticed how her maid avoided his eyes.

"The Queen wished me to inform you both of the celebrations tonight. There is to be another feast and bull fight so that Princess Christine can be introduced to the public."

Erik rolled his eyes. How many more times would his mother parade the girl around? Christine seemed confused, but thanked Jeanette and told her she would meet her inside. "What is a bull fight?" Christine asked as she released the prince's arm.

"A silly affair. My mother is simply showing you off to the public now, last night was for the nobility." Erik's agitation was easily heard in his voice, and his cat like eyes seemed to glow with annoyance.

"Will you be escorting me to this event?" Christine felt silly, having to ask her husband to escort her somewhere. And truth be told she was a little nervous that he would say no. In Flerin, it would be the obvious thing to do. But maybe Erik was not rude, but simply following his home's customs.

Erik was taken slightly aback for the second time in a very short amount of time. His little wife seemed to at least enjoy his company enough to want him to properly escort her around. _Enjoy that while it lasts_, the voice in his head nagged. "Do you want me to?"

Now it was Christine's turn to be a little shocked. She let her blue eyes search his golden ones for a moment, was he joking with her? She saw nothing but sincerity there, so she offered him one of her warmest smiles and nodded. "Of course." Was her simple reply.

He watched her eyes as she examined him, unsure of what she was looking for. He found himself nervous as well, which made him slightly annoyed. She was a tiny little girl, and already having such a profound effect on him. He would have to work on that, effective immediately. His new resolve was tested as she beamed up at him. _Jesus, what did she see that made her smile like that?_ He chose to look away, her smile affected him so.

"I should go and meet Jeanette and start to prepare for tonight..."Christine said, unsure of why the troubled look had settled across her husband's masked face. She was still so unsure of him, how could he go through so many emotions so quickly? And would there ever be a day when she would be able to tell what they were, and more importantly, why they came?

Erik nodded and bowed his head slightly, "I shall see you tonight."

* * *

Christine spent the rest of the day bathing and readying for the activities. She had allowed Jeanette to pick out her gown, and she had chosen a lovely golden gown with a square neckline and delicate lace detailing. Her hair was washed and then pinned to dry, so that by the time evening was coming around and Jeanette started to style it, her normally unruly curls had been reduced to delicate waves, which she worked in to a beautiful braided crown, with a small amount of ringlets left down on her back.

"Won't that be improper?" Christine worried.

Jeanette smiled, "No, most of your hair is pinned. You'll be fine."

Christine nodded and did not voice any more worries. She trusted Jeanette, and she had made her look beautiful and proper at every other occasion, she was sure tonight would be no different. Soon all that was left to make her outfit was a simple sapphire pendant that hung from a gold chain. She looked critically at herself in the looking glass, surprised at how much older all the powder and kohl made her appear, although it was not a bad thing.

A gentle knock at her door diverted her attention. That would be the prince. Christine smiled, glad that he had kept her word. Jeanette scurried over to admit him while Christine rose from her vanity.

She felt herself blush as she took in the image of him standing before her. She was not a stranger to what a well dressed man looked like. She had seen plenty come to ask to court her, and yet, the feeling that coursed through her now felt completely foreign. He was dressed completely in black, save for his vest, which was a dark silver color. But it wasn't his clothes, it was the way he carried himself. He stood there with such an air of confidence, of pure masculinity, that Christine felt nervous and unsure of herself.

"You look lovely." His words spilled from him like honey and Christine felt herself blush and look down at her hands. Even his voice was handsome.

"T-Thank you..." Christine surprised herself with her stammer. She silently chided herself and forced herself to look up and offer him a polite smile. She saw that he offered her his arm without being told to and she took it readily.

* * *

The feast was nothing new, and very similar to the one from the other night. The only exception was the location. Instead of the great hall like before, they were in situated in an arena, their food brought to them by the staff. Many of the stands were empty, and Erik explained that the nobility were still the only ones that dined in their presence and that the rest of the general populace would be admitted when the plates were cleared. Christine saw Vincent and his wife down a few aisles and waved, and she received a charming smile and wink in return.

Queen Gwendolyn sat just a few rows above them, at the seat of honor. Christine was glad for the stacked seating, it meant she didn't have to be watched by the Queen. There was something in her smile that made her uneasy, her smile didn't reach her eyes and it left Christine with a cold feeling. Although she would never describe him as talkative, Erik seemed tense and withdrawn, much like their first evening together. She had hoped that after their small outing this afternoon, at least conversation would be easy between them.

Soon the plates were all cleared and people started milling in to the arena, and they immediately began to search for her face in the crowd. Christine felt the burning of her constant blush, but she understood their curiosity. Erik seemed even more on edge than she had come to consider normal and she chanced a glance up at him. "I suppose you don't come to these often..."

Erik looked down at her, "No, I do try to avoid them."

Christine wondered if it was due to his mask. _Stop thinking about it!_ She chastised herself again. He wore it for a reason, and if he chose not to share that information to his brand new wife than that was his prerogative.

Christine heard the voice of the Queen start and she felt Erik physically tense next to her. Obviously there was a lot wrong in their relationship, more information she did not have. She felt a small amount of frustration, there was so much she didn't know! Her train of thought was stopped though when she heard a shattering applause and saw the sea of faces look at her. Apparently, she had just been introduced. As soon as the noise ended, she heard the loud clattering of metal being moved and saw a huge bull enter the ring belong. His horns were longer than she thought possible, no doubt as long as she was tall, and his broad back was riddled with scars, and it appeared he had lost an eye. Christine felt a wave of pity for the poor beast, he had obviously endured a lot.

The beast grunted and tore around the ring, waving his head around frantically, as if he was looking for something. His ears fell flat against his head and he stood still as Christine heard another scraping sound as another metal gate was lifted.

Immediately the baying of hounds could be heard and five dogs ran into the ring as a pack. Christine felt a sick feeling in her stomach as she watched them cautiously surround the giant bull, "My Lord..."

Erik hadn't even been watching the floor beneath him, he had been perusing the stands, but Christine's call brought his eyes back down to her. Her face had gone bone white and she had a hand up to her mouth, which was opened in a delicate 'o.' He remembered her question from earlier. 'What is a bull fight?' Suddenly, he felt very bad for the young girl sitting beside him.

Christine watched in horror as the bull finally charged after one of the dogs, who quickly darted out of the way, barking furiously along with the others. One of the ones at the back took the opportunity to nip at the bull's heel, causing the beast to kick and whirl around, catching one of the dogs up front with its deadly horn. A heartbreaking cry came from the dog, an excited roar rang from the crowd, and Christine saw blood speckle the floor. The other hounds didn't stop to wait on their injured pack mate, instead they took advantage of the sudden turn to latch on to the bull's shoulder blade, causing him to wail in pain and buck.

Christine wanted to close her eyes, to look away from the scene before her but she found she could not. The bucking of the bull had caused the skin to tear where the dog was latched on, and copious amounts of blood squirted out of the wound. Finally the dog was thrown from the bull's back. The injured hound had regained his feet, but he hung in the back, limping severely. The three others continued to bark and growl, and the beast continued to try and charge them, although it was obvious his strength was failing. On one of the bull's charge attempts a hound managed to bite on to his neck, the bull roared out in pain and tried to fling the animal desperately. Christine watched in horror as he fell to his knees, and the other dogs descended on him. The crowd was going wild.

She stood suddenly, her body shaking. She was about to leave her box when she heard a shrill whistle and immediately the dogs fell back from the bull. She looked down, the beast was barely breathing, blood dripping from nearly his whole body. It was obvious he was close to death.

"My dear people, it is time for a decision!" Christine heard Gwendolyn's shrill voice call out and the crowd broke out in cheers again. How could they be enjoying this?

"But, since we are here to honor her, perhaps we should let the new Princess decide?" Christine looked up, unable to see the Queen, and glad for it. She felt Erik raise next to her, had he known this was his mother's plan? Just like he had known what this fight was? She felt her stomach knot in anger.

"Fair princess, what will be this bull's fate? Release the hounds-" Gwendolyn had to pause due to the roar of the crowd, "Or let him live to fight another day?" This was met with heavy booing.

Christine felt tears sting her eyes. How could she order them to kill the poor beast? She looked down at the bull, he was on his knees, his back heaving with the intensity of his breathing. Would it be more cruel to let him live, just to force him through this ordeal again? The crowd was growing impatient with her, they were chanting for the bull's death.

Erik heard his mother's decision and felt his anger roar to life. He should have suspected her to notice Christine's delicateness, he should have been ready for her to play on that weakness. He bent down and whispered in his shaking wife's ear, "Kill him. He has suffered enough."

Christine whipped her head up to look at him, her blue eyes brimming with tears, "I won't." She took a deep breath and called out to the crowd, "I will not be his executioner!" She heard the crowd boo with disapproval, she saw the kennel master come and round up the hounds and she fled the arena, tears coursing unchecked down her cheeks as she ran down the hallway.

"Christine!" She heard him call and she stopped, her sadness turning in to pure rage.

"Never have I ever witnessed such senseless cruelty!" She yelled as she whipped around, furiously wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I am _disgusted_! You call that sport! You call that entertainment!" Erik had caught up to her now and she stared him down, his mask or golden eyes having no effect on her rage, "It is savage! Never would that be tolerated in Flerin!"

"Dear Princess, you are no longer _in_ Flerin. It would be wise to not insult your new home." Gwendolyn's cool voice filled the hallway behind her and Christine refused to turn around.

"Mother..." Erik's tone was icy cold

"Are you upset I didn't let you decide the outcome? Next time, I promise. Perhaps you should educate your wife on her new home's cultural pastimes, no?" The Queen laughed and continued on her way.

Christine felt her body shaking violently. She had never felt hatred before. She had felt disdain, contempt even, but this was pure, unbridled hatred. Her hands were balled in to tiny fists by her side and she felt lost as to what to do.

"Christine..." The prince started to say something but she cut him off.

"My Lady is fine. Do not speak to me as your equal. We are not, for you _and your culture_ are barbaric and I know I am above it. Do not speak to me as a husband would a wife, for we are not. I wear your ring and I recited my vows to you, but you now as well I that it means nothing. Do not look for me in your bed tonight, for I will not be there." She started to storm past him, but just as he had earlier in the stables, he caught her and stopped her progress. He lowered his mouth to her ears and whispered so low it caused shivers to run down her spine.

"_My Lady,_ I can assure you, I find no entertainment in what the show we endured tonight. However, I _am_ your husband, and if you seek consummation," He pulled her body tightly against his, "I will grant you your request. What I will _not_ do, is be talked to in such a manner. And you will be in my room tonight" He released her suddenly and she staggered back slightly.

Christine stood for a moment, her eyes boring holes in to his, and she knew he was testing her. See was aware that he would not break the gaze first, and her pride would not allow her to. The only thing that saved them from standing there, staring, all night was Vincent's timely interruption.

"My Lord..." Erik turned his head when he heard his title, and that was all Christine needed. She took the opportunity to briskly walk past him, not even pausing to give a greeting to Vincent. Erik sighed as he listened to her heels click briskly across the stone floor.


End file.
